


Forgiven

by Kat_is_a_kit_kat



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorders, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Relapsing, Slow Burn, Smoking, eating disorder tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-26 22:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 55,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20749901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_is_a_kit_kat/pseuds/Kat_is_a_kit_kat
Summary: Jason Dean didn't die in his attempted suicide and was hospitalized.Veronica, in hopes of erasing her guilt, forced herself into a state of mind where she only remembered JD as a monster.She let everyone around her convince her he was a monster.Curiosity overcame her fear and hatred.She reopened her worst wound; she let her repressed feelings of love come back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!
> 
> Welcome to the new (and improved) Forgiven!
> 
> This version of Forgiven should hopefully be a shit-ton more consistent than the last and not have the characters feel like piles of plot convenience that only work in situations revolving around JD.
> 
> I'm actually really excited for how this should turn out.
> 
> Anyways, the first few chapters should be a little bit different from the original Forgiven in the sense that I'm adding more content and giving a little bit of JD's POV. Otherwise, feel free to skim over these first few chapters before I start re-working on JD and Duke's redemption arcs.
> 
> Basically these first few chapters are going to be the exposition that I kinda D E S P E R A T E L Y needed in the first version of Forgiven. Feel free to skip over if you want, however some elements from this chapter will be back in later ones.
> 
> Enjoy! :)
> 
> NOTE 
> 
> THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SECTION OF A CHARACTER SELF-HARMING, IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THAT STUFF THE BEGINNING AND ENDING WILL BE MARKED WITH THIS: ^^^^^^^^^^^
> 
> Stay safe you guys. <3

_It all happened in a flash. Tears streaming down his face as he felt his life draining from his body. He repeated his statement one last time. "Our love is God.". He collapsed, hearing the tickling of his life coming to an inevitable end. Everything around him felt so cold but he kept his eyes trained on her. Her once blue blazer stained a dark crimson from his blood. Her brown hair, once perfectly maintained and flowing, had been tousled and knotted by their struggle. Her face, once filled with expressions of joy and happiness have since been tainted with looks of grief and sadness. _

_With every tick off the bomb's timer, her expression changed. Misery. Regret. Remorse. Sadness. Forlorn. Disappointment. Anger. It settled on it's final emotion. Her face flashed with empathy as she muttered something he could just barely hear._

_"Say hi to God."_

_Despite the pain coursing through every nerve in his body, he managed to form a tiny smile. This was the end._

_There was a deafening noise and everything went black._

_. . ._

_Veronica turned away a moment before JD exploded. She wasn't sure her mind could handle watching him die. After everything they had been through? She thought he had been misguided, gone insane, overboard, but that didn't mean she wanted him dead. She took a shaky breath as a deafening sound overcame her ears. Within seconds, her clothes had been covered with soot and ashes. _

_She trekked up the stairs leading into Westerburg, relying heavily on the railing to maintain stability. As she reached the top, she collapsed to her knees. She screamed out in agony, in pure pain. It wasn't a physical pain, but the weight of seeing it happen. Her screams turned into violent sobs as she felt her face become as black as her clothing. She couldn't believe it; Jason Dean was dead._

_Letting out one last sob, she picked herself off the ground. Every inch of her body ached. Her head and heart were both collectively pounding at the same rate. Using the front door's handle as a railing, she lifted herself away from the floor and staggered inside, determined to finish what she had started. _

. . .

Waking up felt like a chore. It always felt like a chore to JD. It was never fun to wake up-to have to endure another day in his life. Whether it was his psychopathic father's tendencies to make him feel like shit or assholes at school; he never caught a break. He always enjoyed the tranquility that came from being alone and hated having to face reality.

It started as a gentle tugging on his eyes. Nothing severe or harsh, but his eyelids would simply flutter open only to snap immediately back shut from the overwhelming white light they saw. They kept doing this, fluttering open for a few seconds before becoming too overwhelmed and snapping shut. It was harmless at first, but it was starting to subconsciously annoy JD. All he wanted to do was sleep and his eyes wouldn't let him.

Next came his ears. All he could vaguely remember was a deafening noise that made everything around him go silent. And then, for the longest time, that's all there was; silence. Then, slowly but surely, a noise wondered it's way into the abyss. It was a high-pitched noise, it repeated, with a persistent frequency. And it stayed there. It wasn't like the light he observed when his eyes flashed open, the noise was endless; _it was consistent._

Then came the rest. JD had no idea for how long he laid in darkness, consumed by nothingness and the feeling of nothingness, but once his body decided that it wanted to bring him out of his subconscious and back into the real world, it felt only too short. The first feeling he felt after coming out the void of nothingness was coldness. Everywhere on his body, it was nothing but cold. His eyes still flashed occasional light and the beeping remained the same, yet this feeling of coldness was the one thing that fully brought him back.

The day he fully awoke was a confusing day. His skin was freezing, the beeping was persistent, and his eyes were flashing, until his eyes flashed longer than expected. Suddenly, he didn't know how, but he jerked upwards in his bed. His black hair flew back upon his jerky action. He felt his body. It was a strange feeling, peculiar, being able to control something that he had only been able to feel for such a long time. 

His eyes still adjusting, he felt his right arm pick up and touch his face. Upon feeling his face he frowned. They were several bumps and indents in his skin. As his eyes adjusted more and more, he could finally see his surroundings. He was lying in a hospital bed with a light blue and white checkered dress on. (He didn't bother checking what was on underneath, though a later inspection revealed that the nurses who dressed him thankfully left his boxers on). The sheets on the bed were tousled slightly from his jerky awakening. They were a sickening color of white and were extremely rough to the touch. He didn't bother to linger on any of his other surroundings. There was basically nothing to see. To his left was a giant medical device where the beeping seemed to have been emanating. In front of him was a door that had a black sheet covering the window. It also had a counter-top of which had a blue chair next to it. There wasn't anything to the right of him that piqued his interest.

He directed his gaze towards his arms, which he immediately took notice of the dozens of scars on them. Some of them, the more vague ones, one washed away by time, he recognized as his old self-harm marks. But his self-harm marks paled in comparison to the dozens of newer, darker scars that littered his arms (He would later find out that these scars covered his entire body, with the most of them being all over his face, as if he had extreme acne.) 

He slowly slumped back and sighed. He had no idea where he was or why he was there. His last memory was in some boiler room assembling something. He was probably helping his dad assemble a bomb to destroy some building that had lost it license. Whatever had happened, it had somehow landed him in this hospital.

JD thought more intensely. He could remember his name. He could remember his dad. He could remember moving over 14 times to 14 different states. He could remember moving into his house in Sherwood, Ohio. He could remember his first day of school. He could vaguely remember a girl sneaking into his room at night. After all of that, it was mostly dark. Like he had somehow forgotten the past three months of his life. He remembered vague tidbits of some girl in a blue blazer. He had no idea who she was though but the way she kept appearing told him that she was important. He just simply couldn't figure out who she was, as if his mind had repressed any memories of who this girl was.

The opening of the door jarred JD out of his thoughts. Coming through it was a girl who had black hair and tan skin. She wore a short sleeved purple shirt and similar purple bottoms. Her hair was held back in a ponytail. She held out a clipboard out in front of her and was currently jotting something down. She wedged herself between the doorway and the door and finished writing down what she needed to before looking up and locking eyes with JD.

"Oh, you're finally awake." She nodded to herself before writing something else down. "Hold on, let me go inform the doctor about this, then I'll be back to check your vitals, alright?" The door slammed shut before JD even got the chance to croak out an answer. 

He didn't have to wait for long before the door opened once again. The nurse from before held open the door for the doctor. The doctor was a male with short, shaggy brown hair and fairly tan skin who peeked his head around the door frame's corner. He fully stepped into JD's view. He had on attire similar to the nurse, however his top was covered by a white jacket. 

"Hey." The doctor smiled at JD. JD didn't know why, but something about the doctor's smile felt awfully ingenuine, as if he was forcing it just to make JD feel better. The doctor fully walked in the room. He and the nurse exchanged nods and the nurse quickly darted out of the room. The doctor pulled the chair from next to the counter closer to the bed. He placed himself down carefully, crossed his legs, and gave JD another weirdly ingenuine smile. "My name is Doctor Tozier."

"Jason Dean." JD stuttered out his reply. He hadn't heard nor used his voice in ages. He was surprised he was still able to use it. It had a somewhat deep sound to it, yet still sounded like a teenager's.

"You're lucky to be alive." JD cocked his head. He had absolutely no clue as to what events launched him into this hospital.

"How?"

Dr. Tozier's eyebrows raised in response to JD's question, as if he expected JD to somehow know the answer. "Let's start from the beginning, tell me everything you remember." 

And so, JD laid there, recounting everything in his mind, his earliest childhood memory, his mother dying in an explosion, his fights with his father, his troublesome teenage years, his transferring to Westerburg High, and the strange girl whose name he couldn't remember.

"And there's this girl, I can't remember her name or who she is, but she keeps appearing." Dr. Tozier nodded the same way he had been for the past hour. "She has brown hair and brown eyes, fairly pale skin, and she's always wearing a blue blazer, she must be important to me or else I would've forgotten her entirely, but I just don't remember her anything about her."

Dr. Tozier nodded before softly speaking up. "Does the name _Veronica Sawyer _ring a bell?"

"Veronica." JD mumbled softly. The name rolled off his tongue unusually well, as if he were used to saying it. The name sounded so familiar, so similar, so welcoming yet so distant. He shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"I see, well, get some rest and I'll have nurse Mandy check up on you in a bit," Dr. Tozier stood up to leave, he opened the door and was almost out of sight when JD called for him to come back.

He poked his head back through the door, an eyebrow raised in petulance, as if JD's request for him to come back was a burden on him. "Yes, Jason?"

"What happened that got me in here?" 

Dr. Tozier broke eye contact with JD and gazed at the floor. He sighed softly before locking eyes with JD again. "You're not going to like the person you were." And with that statement, he slammed the door shut, leaving JD even more confused than he was before.

. . .

Veronica had never felt this kind of pain before. Granted, she was only seventeen, she wasn't supposed to have gotten looped into an oppressive hierarchy that dominated her high school. She wasn't supposed to have gotten looped in with the charming bad boy who would end up going psycho and nearly blowing up her school. She _wasn't supposed to have gotten involved with anything that would hurt her. _

All Veronica wanted was her senior year to go smoothly. For the endless bullying, harassment, torture, to momentarily cease. Looking back on it, Veronica realized how selfish she was, trading up her only friend for what she perceived to have been an easier life. Joining the Heathers actually turned out to be a kick in the ass, as the harassment she received was increased, along with heightened expectations of what she supposed to wear, say, eat, do, think. It felt so good to spit in Heather Chandler's face, to scream at her about quitting her little 'lipstick gestapo'.

It felt so good to yell at Heather Chandler to lick it up. It all felt so good to retaliate until Heather threatened to destroy her. Until Heather threatened to make her even less than she was before. 

Frustration and a will to do anything since she would become irrelevant on Monday led her eye being caught by her mysterious stranger. It felt so good to break in, go wild, say what she wanted and not worry about glaring looks from Heather. 

Veronica wouldn't say that she necessarily regretted screaming at Heather to, essentially, go fuck herself, but she always wondered what would've happened had she opted to go home and cry, rather than act on every impulse she had repressed since joining the Heathers. 

Heather wouldn't be dead, for starters. Neither would Kurt and Ram. Veronica would've most likely been degraded back to her loser life, which, considering the events that did happen, didn't seem so bad now. She didn't know what would become of her and JD's relationship, and honestly, she didn't want to think about it. The more and more she thought about JD, what became of him, and his suicide, the more and more Veronica blamed herself. 

It didn't help that his suicide was _seemingly broadcasted across the entire fucking world._ So many people began to pelt her with questions.

"What were his final words?"

"Did you know he was going to do this?"

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"What did you say to him?"

Every question asked took away another piece of her sanity, until one day, she snapped.

. . .

It was a quiet Tuesday in the Sawyer household. By quiet, it meant that Veronica and her parents hadn't gotten into the screaming fight they normally had every evening. Veronica was laying her bed, sobbing to herself, wishing that she could've reversed everything she had done. Wishing to go back to that night at the party, the night she spent with JD. Wishing to undo all of it.

It didn't help that the one person she wanted to talk to was gone. She clenched her pillow closer to her chest, imagining that it was the warm embrace of JD, telling her that it was okay, that Heather's words didn't matter because it was just high school. That he would stick by her side and that once they graduated, they wouldn't need to worry anymore. Pretending that all the promises JD made to her were true only worsened Veronica's crying, as now those promises would never come true.

The ringing of her phone snapped her out of her tears momentarily. She wormed her way out of her blue comforter to pick up the phone, which laid right next to the bed on an oak end-table.

She snatched the phone off it's receiver, with trembling hands she brought it to her ear, hoping that it was a call of comfort. A call from someone, anyone, that she would be okay and that all of this would come to pass. That she wasn't a horrible person and still deserved a happy life similar to the one she dreamed of at the beginning of her senior year.

"Hello, is this Veronica Sawyer?" The voice that spoke to her was of a female. The voice sounded soft and soothing, yet it wasn't one that Veronica recognized.

"Yes, wh-who is this?" Veronica's voice trembled slightly. She took a shaky breath as a way to calm herself down. Hopefully, whoever this was, wasn't another fucking reporter and somebody who actually cared.

"Hello, I'm Amy Fegil and I have a few questions for you, for starters did you know that your boyfriend was planning to kil-" Veronica didn't even bother to listen to her finish the rest of the question before she slammed the phone down on the receiver. Her sobs increased by the tenfold as her body darted straight up and off of her bed.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Within moments, Veronica had hazily stumbled into her bathroom. She slammed the door shut and turned towards the mirror.

_"Veronica, you look like Hell!"_

Heather's words had never rung truer in Veronica's mind as she gazed at her reflection. Her eyes were puffy and red, her hair was matted and tousled, her shirt, once a light blue, was starting to turn an ugly shade of brown. She could hardly see the state that her leggings were in, but she was sure that it's dark colors hid the stains of her snot.

She frowned and gritted her teeth. She didn't want to be Veronica Sawyer anymore, she wanted to be anybody, _anyone, _who wasn't her. She took one last look her reflection, glared at it. She formed a fist and punched it through her mirror, hearing the shattering of glass all around her. She stepped back, analyzing her bloody fist and how the mirror shards protruded out of her knuckles, how every time she flexed her hand outwards, a mirror shard fell out and a hole in her knuckle started immediately spurting blood.

She shifted her gaze back at her reflection. The broken mirror fragments did nothing to alter her appearance, except split it into disgusting fragments all over the place. She clenched her fists, ignoring the blaring pain that came from her right. She reached forward with her left hand and yanked an especially sharp piece of glass out of the mirror's frame. The initial yank sliced Veronica's hand open, she felt the blood slowly ooze out and down her arm. She ignored it and handed the shard to her right hand.

Her hand was shaky at first, the first cut she drew along her wrist wasn't clean, she only managed to get halfway through it before she stopped in pain. She panted in excruciating pain as she criticized herself for not being able to handle a simple cut. Aggression towards herself fresh in her mind, she raised the shard to her wrist again, counted to three and ripped it across.

Veronica didn't bother to open her eyes as she repeated this procession down her arm and up onto her forearm. She knew she was doing something right, as her arm slowly started going numb as blood dripped down it. She blindly handed the shard to her left hand. She barely was able to feel her fingertips get sliced open from gripping the shard. Her vision was starting to blur. Determined to end it all, she repeated the process on her right arm. Each cut threw her consciousness farther and farther away from her.

She barely managed to get halfway up her arm before she collapsed to the floor in a bloody heap, feeling all the life draining from her body.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

. . .

Veronica awoke in a hospital bed with an itchy feeling on both her arms. Blinking and clearing the sleep from her eyes she carefully looked around. The hospital room was pretty generic, a bunch of wires attached to her fed into a machine on her left, a counter with a chair next to it in the middle, and a bathroom door to the right. 

She sighed, noticing that the clothes she was dressed in were gone and in their place was a blue and white dress. She pulled her arms out from under the covers and took a moment to analyze them, noticing how they both were covered in a wad of gauze, although the gauze ran up her left arm more than her right. She flipped them over, trying to erase the memory from her mind.

She knew exactly why she was in there. And she wasn't exactly happy about it. Before she had the chance to think further, to _seethe_ the fact that her parents came home early from _where-ever the fuck they had gone_, the door flew open.

The worried and tired face of her mother appeared in the doorway and instantly all of Veronica's anger disappeared. Her mother's hands raised to her mouth upon seeing Veronica awake. Veronica didn't notice it at the time, but tears were protruding out of her eyes like faucets. She dropped her hands and wiped her eyes before waving to Veronica.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Veronica nodded and her mother softly shut the door. 

Veronica wasn't sure if her mother left to gather her composure or to get the doctor. Veronica wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer. She was supposed to their picture perfect daughter, the daughter who never gave them trouble. The daughter who they would let out of the house without hesitation. The daughter who they could trust to be alone. To have all of that suddenly ripped away must've hurt her parents more than she could possibly fathom. It didn't make her feel too peachy either.

Veronica sat there in silence momentarily before deciding that it was too much and switching on the TV. Veronica didn't want to think right now. She just wanted to cease. To be thrown into some sort of limbo. A place where she could spend an eternity gathering her emotions off of the floor. _A place where she didn't have to deal with her parent's disappointment in her._

Her mother did come back, eventually, along with the doctor and her father. Her father said nothing upon seeing Veronica. She was sure he felt the same thing he was; remorse. Her mother, on the other hand, was an emotional wreck. Every moment she spent in the room with Veronica seemed to destroy her mental health more and more. It got to the point where her father ushered her mother out of the room.

They sat there in silence for a while, watching garbled cartoons. It was almost peaceful. Almost. Until her dad turned to her and softly muttered something.

"I didn't think it would come to this." 

It was a soft and small statement and after her father said it he looked like he wanted to take it back immediately, but it was too late. Veronica's eyes welled with tears and before she knew it, she was a sobbing mess. She screeched for her father to get out and once he was out, she bundled up the blankets around her and held it to herself. Once again pretending it was JD.

But unlike before, she didn't find much comfort in pretending that the bundled mess of blankets were JD. Instead, she found contempt and anger. It was him who did this to her after all. If it wasn't for him, she would've never tried to end her life or cried herself to sleep. She would still be her parents' picture perfect daughter and an actual student at school.

She shoved the blankets away from her, but only felt her mood worsen. She couldn't blame JD for everything. The large majority of this mess had been her fault. Slowly, she brought the bundle back to her and hugged it tightly. This time, she felt slightly better.

Veronica didn't spend much time at the hospital. Only three days after she was admitted she was sent to a mental hospital under the tab of "Active Threat". The therapists there did nothing to make her feel better. They proded and poked her with questions about JD similar to how the reporters did. At this point, she wished the therapists were reporters, as they couldn't make her down as insane. She was so sick and tired of hearing about "JD gave up" and "JD sounded like a bad influence" that she began thinking it herself. Every night, when she was instructed to sleep, when the thoughts in her mind raced, all she could do was blame JD. 

Eventually, she did blow up. She confessed everything to her therapist, the Heathers, the murders, the attempted bombing-everything. Looking back on it, Veronica still wasn't sure as to why she did confessed. Perhaps it was just the weight of what they did that was destroying her. Once she did truthfully confess everything she felt a lot better, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Of course, with weight off meant more weight on, as for two weeks straight Veronica was thrown into interrogation rooms and heavily questioned. She couldn't blame them, it was her own fault. Although she hadn't poured the drain cleaner that killed Heather Chandler, she still handed her the cup. Although she didn't put the bullets in the gun, she still shot Ram Sweeney. 

Eventually, the case was cleared. All evidence pointed to JD as not only the main assailant, but a manipulator. From then on, the therapists pounded it into Veronica's head that she had done nothing wrong, that everything she did was spurred on by JD. _She wasn't a monster, he was._ At first she didn't believe it, but the more and more she thought about it, the more she did. She never actually wanted Heather, Kurt, or Ram dead, all she wanted was an easier life-and who could fault her for that?

All positive thoughts of JD slowly drifted out of her mind and before she knew it, she was being discharged with an outpatient therapist. 

She smiled as she arrived home, taking in the smell of, well, if she was being honest, her house smelled like nothing special. But the smell of nothing would always beat the sickening smell of the hospital any day. She grinned even wider as she took a pair of scissors and cut her wristband off. She analyzed it for a second before dumping it in the trash. The only thing she would end up remembering from it was the discharge date; _November 7th, 1989._

_. . ._

Once JD had awakened from his coma, he was thrown into several different therapies. Most of them focusing on him being able to regain control of his body, but he was also thrown into a therapy for controlling and containing anger, which he found peculiar, as since he awoke he had not felt angry once. He thought it might've been something that had to deal with who he was before being admitted to this hospital, but nobody wanted to tell him what had happened. He was completely left in the dark on the topic other than Dr. Tozier's statement.

_"You're not going to like the person you were." _

The statement rung in his head like an annoying yet catchy melody. It popped up at the most inconvenient times and made him question everything he knew about himself. He liked to think of himself as a good person. A person who was just silent, yet Dr. Tozier statement made him question everything.

It didn't help when authorities started appearing at the hospital.

JD had just finished his afternoon anger management therapy and had stumbled back into his bed when an unscheduled knock came at his door. 

"Come in." He spoke.

The door swung open to reveal at least three police officers along with nurse Mandy and Dr. Tozier behind them. All three of the police officers had brown hair. Two of them had brown eyes while the one in the middle had green eyes. They all wore a generic blue outfit, fitted with a tool belt and a walkie-talkie. He stared at them in total confusion. What on Earth could he have possibly been in trouble for. 

"Jason Dean," The officer in the middle spoke with a certain gruffness to his voice, as if JD was some sort of felony they had failed to catch time and time again. "We need to talk." 

And so the officers waited outside as nurse Mandy helped JD into his clothes. They handed him a black t-shirt, dark brown pants, and a black trench-coat. He quickly changed into the clothes, with some added help, as the majority of his body still didn't like working. Thumbing over the trench-coat, JD felt a piece of himself return. He had Mandy help him in it. He took a moment to glance at his reflection and almost felt like he knew what he was. _Who he was._

Once JD shuffled outside of his room, the main officer, who JD had come to realize was the sheriff, handcuffed him and guided him down the hall, out of the hospital, and into the back of a cop car. Driving through Sherwood, Ohio, handcuffed in the back of a cop car felt weirdly surreal to him. As if he were caught in some big joke, a joke on him.

He was thrown into an interrogation room with a light in his face.

"Heather Chandler, do you remember who she is?" The sheriff snarled at him with an especially nasty tone of voice. JD paused and thought to himself, he could vaguely remember three Heathers. They were all somehow different to each other. He closed his eyes and thought harder, wishing that his memories would unbury themselves, that they would could back and tell him who he is. _Who he was._

He shook his head and let his eyes flutter open. "I don't remember anybody named Heather Chandler, but I do remember that at Westerburg High there were three Heathers."

The sheriff nodded and leaned the light back slightly. "Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney, do you remember who they are?" The sheriff's gruffness had faltered slightly, as if he felt sympathetic for JD.

JD chewed nervously on the inside of his cheek. Unlike Heather Chandler, he easily remembered who Kurt and Ram were. They were the guys he beat up on the first day of school for calling him a fag. After that memory, however, they were completely erased from his mind, as if they simply ceased to exist.

JD nodded slowly. "I do, I beat them up on my first day at Westerburg High."

"And why did you do that?"

"They called me a fag among other things, I think I just got fed up with it."

"Do you think the things they said to you would result in down the road resentment towards them?" The sheriff raised a suspicious eyebrow and shifted the light towards him again.

JD shook his head nervously. "I don't have any memories of them after that." He felt his hand gripping his trench-coat tightly. He didn't know what he was supposed to say. He felt like he was caught up in a lie, a lie of which was so well-established that he couldn't prove he was innocent.

"Do you want to know what happened to all of those people I asked you about?" JD looked up at the sheriff, scanning his face for the slightest bit of mercy. The slightest bit of sympathy, sympathy for the fact that JD had no idea who he was or what past him did. JD didn't get the chance to reply. "They're dead, Jason," JD gave him a questioning stare. He felt weirdly sorrowful for the fact that all three of them were dead, even though he didn't have any memories about Heather and hardly any positive memories about Kurt and Ram.

"You killed them." JD's head snapped up upon hearing that. He had killed them? How? He didn't even remember who they were! JD felt himself get a little peeved at the sheriff's endless accusation.

"How?" JD spat back at the sheriff, taking note of how the sheriff's face morphed from angry to afraid. JD almost felt himself formed a smile at the way he could easily make him feel afraid. "I don't even remember who I am, yet you think I'll remember having killed someone?"

The sheriff sighed, setting the lamp on the table and flicking it off. The initial dimness of the room strained JD's eyes. He stood up and pulled JD out of his chair. 

"It's not that you've forgotten everything, son, it's _who you were and what you did." _

After that initial interrogation, the police mostly left JD alone. They came by now and then, each time, trying to see if JD had remembered something. Of course, he never could. All the memories of the crimes he had committed had vanished from his mind. Yet, they kept pestering him, thinking their consistent questioning would somehow jog his memory. JD never fully did recover his memories on his own. The police merely pulled him into a room for three hours and told him everything that he had done.

_Everything._

From proposing the idea of making Heather's death look like a suicide to thoroughly planning out a way to murder everyone in his school. He asked them how they did find out about this and they said it was an eye-witness to the crimes. The sheriff gave him more of a hint when he softly muttered, "Your ex-girlfriend."

For a split-second, upon having heard this information, JD felt some sort of pride in himself. He was normally the loser of the school. The outcast, the freak, the emo, whatever the students found funniest to snarl at him in hallways. Of course, he normally didn't give a shit. He usually spent 6-9 weeks at a school, if even that, before his father decided to yank him out and move on to the next part of his life. It was rather refreshing to hear despite Westerburg being like every other shit-hole school, he had somehow started a romantic relationship.

Then, it dawned on him that whoever it was that dated him was there when he killed people. That person probably didn't want touch him with a ten-foot pole. Or to see him ever again. JD, once again, felt a pang of sorrow go through him. It was the first place in his life where he had an actual relationship with someone that wasn't his father and he had fucked it up. _He had fucked whoever was his significant other up._

Eventually, the interrogations started to slowly drop in number before ceasing entirely. And there JD was, back where he started, with no more information on himself than before other than that he was a murderer. He asked a couple of nurses who stopped by his room where the police officers were and the majority of them said the same thing. That all charges against JD had been dropped due to him not only being a minor, _but possibly insane._

Of course, once the police did come to this conclusion, JD was thrown into numerous psychiatric therapies for just about anything. Anger. Depression. Apathy. Lack of empathy. Suicide. Anxiety. They said he would be cleared for discharge and re-entrance to school once he had gotten a full physical and psychological evaluation. 

He questioned them as to where he would live, as he was almost certain that his dad had moved on without him, similar to how he moved on past his own wife dying. His fears were, in fact, confirmed by Dr. Tozier, who told JD that his house, which was once full of-almost life, was completely empty except for a "For Sale" sign out front. 

JD didn't know how to process this information. His immediate reaction was to cry. No matter what, if someone he cared about left him, he would always start crying. He never got attached to anybody to really cry about. His dad surely wasn't anything to waste tears over, yet he felt so alone. He didn't know who he was, everyone was against him for what he had done, and his only family (If JD could even have called his dad family) had left him without hesitation. He let his sadness flood his brain until he couldn't feel the sadness anymore. Anger slowly began to seethe its way in, blaring, hot frustration at everything. All the people blaming him for something he didn't remember doing, his father for leaving him, and although he couldn't remember her, he was pissed off at his ex-girlfriend for not keeping everything to herself.

Of course, when he looked back on the last point, he couldn't necessarily say it was fair or right of him to blame whoever she was for reporting the truth. She was doing what she probably thought was right _and who could possibly despise a person like that?_

He just laid in his hospital bed, thumbing his blankets, and thinking. Thinking about everything. The lives he had taken. The lives he had destroyed. His own life that his past self ruined. He just laid there and sulked. Dreaming and wishing of an alternate reality.

The fact that he had survived his attempted suicide made things only worse. The bomb practically destroyed his body; he could barely do normal things like walking. Not to mention, he had a giant target on his back from what he had done prior to his attempted suicide. He had no home or family. He was almost guaranteed another month or two in the hospital. Which JD didn't know if he appreciated or hated. On one hand, he had a warm bed and somewhat decent food, but he wasn't sure if he could handle much more of the nurse's pestering and questioning, the glaring looks he would get from other patients.

His only hope at this point was to find whoever his girlfriend was. He didn't know anything about her other than that she was there when he killed others and almost himself and that she had turned him in. But if she had loved him at some point, maybe she could've loved him again. He hoped. 

Sometimes, it was the only thing that kept him going.

. . .

Veronica screamed out once again as she slammed her hands against her steering wheel. She couldn't fucking believe it. She didn't want to believe it. _Jason Dean was still fucking alive._

Her screams of rage eventually settled down into fits of aggressive sobbing. She cradled herself against the wheel, holding onto it as if it were her only grip to reality. Months upon months of suffering, months upon months of therapy, _month upon month of psychological torture and accepting that he was dead only for him to turn out to be alive?_

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair to her, or Heather, or Kurt, or Ram, or her parents, or anyone. He deserved to die. He deserved to have had his body thrown in a ditch and buried; never to be remembered. _To have just been fucking erased from history._ She didn't deserve to suffer while he got to live without the consequences. 

_She could still remember Heather's words._

_"You know he's still alive, right?" Her voice barely raised above a whisper. She kept her hand tense as it rested it on her shoulder. Veronica nearly started screaming._

She told her parents, friends, and therapist about it and they all responded in the same way; don't go near him. Granted, they gave her different reasons as to why. Her parents stated that they didn't want Veronica to get destroyed by him a second time, her friends said that JD was a monster and would still be the same disgusting creature he was when he nearly died, and her therapist merely responded that Veronica's mental state wasn't capable of seeing him. Seeing every reason why she was falling apart at the seams _alive._

She didn't listen to them, obviously, as she killed her car's engine and stepped out into the hospital's parking lot. She took a moment to wipe all the tears from her eyes before aggressively marching in. Once she did get inside, her anger was hit with sorrow, as the smell of hospital drifted into her nostrils. She didn't like one bit, it reminded her of her own visit. She shivered and tried to brush off the unpleasant memories that came from being in that hellhole.

She shuffled over to a reception desk and tapped on the glass to get the nurse's attention. The nurse raised an uninterested eyebrow in response. 

"What room is Jason Dean in?" Veronica voice wavered through the air. She was surprised she was able to say his name without screaming or crying.

"Are you family?"

Veronica smirked and sighed. "Just let me through." The nurse lifted her arm to dial a number on the phone. Most likely security. "I'm his girlfriend." She stuttered out the last statement. She didn't like having her name under the label of 'his girlfriend'. She didn't like his name anywhere.

The nurse raised a more curious eyebrow and dropped the hand she was pushing towards the phone. "Floor 5, room 198, do you need help getting there?"

"No, thank you." Veronica was going to get lost, she knew she would. She didn't mind it. Every step she took towards JD's room felt like another step towards her doom. She relished the time she spent getting lost. She relished the time she spent winding around endless corners and stairwells. She relished her time until she was faced with a door that had a name plate that said "Room 198" on it. 

She sighed softly upon realizing that this was it. This decision of hers could possibly make or break her future. She felt her fists clenched and then relax. They kept repeating this process, as if Veronica's body itself didn't know whether it wanted to be infuriated or depressed. 

She just couldn't believe it was already two months after JD had tried to off himself. She simply couldn't believe that he was still alive. She couldn't believe she was here, standing in front of his room, bracing and preparing herself to go inside. It all felt so surreal. The blinding white lights, the dark window cover, the sickeningly sweet smell of the hospital. She inhaled sharply, wiping her cheek from what felt like a tear and gripped the door's handle.

The door's handle was oddly cold. Veronica wasn't sure if she liked it or not, but it kept her somewhat grounded to reality, and for that, she was thankful.

She closed her eyes and counted to three, turning and pushing the door inward once she hit one. 

Veronica didn't know what she was expecting when she barged into JD's hospital room. It was weirdly real, to see JD in a hospital gown with nearly a hundred wires attached to him. She didn't know why she didn't expect that, as if her mind thought that once she opened the door she would be back in the boiler room, fighting with him over control of the gun.

JD stared back at her curiously, as if he had no idea who she was. She stepped inside and shut the door. The room was fairly dark, which Veronica found stupidly ironic, considering how fucking edgy JD was before going insane. She broke eye contact with him and sat in the chair next to the counter. She drummed on the wooden side of the chair with her fingers as a way to distract herself.

"Hello, uhm," Veronica's gaze darted up immediately to his. She shot him a glare of pure hatred, hoping that he would understand what it meant. "Who are you?"

To say the question didn't caught Veronica off-guard would be a lie. But for some reason, she expected him to not remember who she was. Still, despite her rationality attempting to keep her grounded, her anger snarled out a response.

"You should fucking know."

The aggression in her reply caught JD off-guard. He had no idea who this girl was, although, he would admit, she looked extremely familiar. Something about her reply gave him the answer he needed however, as if the damage he had done to her was conveyed perfectly in one small response.

"Veronica?" He croaked out her name. And then, the memories hit him. He knew who she was. This was his ex-girlfriend, Veronica Sawyer. The girl who was plaguing his memories, flickering in and out of his consciousness. He felt the memories of times they spent together flooding back. He felt a weird attachment to her and felt his heart ache to hold her, hug her. Taking one look at her peeved face however, he shut his mouth and waited for a reply.

She didn't reply, she just stared daggers into his soul.

"I'm sorry." He muttered. He had just now got his memories back and taking a look at how much time they spent together, cared for each other, just for it to go down the drain-he was starting to understand the amount of pain he had inflicted upon her. _The amount of pain he was causing her just by being alive._

Veronica chuckled in disbelief upon hearing JD's apology. _Did he seriously think that one simple apology would undo the several months of suffering she faced from him? From his actions? From his attempted suicide?_

And yet, despite the ire that formed from his pitiful apology, Veronica felt a pang of sympathy and guilt go through her. He supposed to be a monster, a horrible, insufferable being, and yet here he was, vulnerable, meek, and apologetic. It made Veronica want to question her anger towards him. Was it fully justified? She shook the doubt from her mind and clenched her fists. Her throat began to scratch and she felt tingling all over her body. She knew exactly what they meant.

"Fuck you." She snarled at him, before swiftly standing up, exiting, and slamming the door shut.

JD just laid there, mostly confused by what had just happen. Slowly, as his brain processed the situation, he felt his eyes welling up with tears. He laid there for hours, doing nothing but sobbing. He had no reason to be alive. It was a burden that he was alive. But if Veronica came to visit him once, maybe she would come again? He could only hope, although, he couldn't necessarily say he looked forward to it.

Veronica dashed out of the hospital, having memorized her way in. She sped through the parking lot and once she was in the comfort of her own car, she screamed again. Her screams, however, weren't in rage. There were of confusion, of sorrow. She ignited the engine and the left the hospital, heading for an environment she knew all too well.

She killed her engine once again and darted inside. Not bothering to engage in any small talk with the cashier other than, "One pack of cigarettes please,".

Leaving the store and regaining comfort in the silence of her car, she lit the cigarette. Inhaling lightly and feeling the cancerous chemicals spread throughout her lungs. She didn't why she did it. She didn't know why she didn't heed everyone else's advice. She didn't know why she heeded her own advice. Yet somehow, buried under fear, sadness, and anger, was a long suppressed desire to see him again.

And despite everyone else's warning, she knew that she was going to visit him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, I’m in another show and high school is kicking my ass. Next chapter won’t take so long-hopefully!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!

Veronica stumbled out of her car and felt her hands hit against the cold pavement of her driveway. She felt sick to her stomach, severely nauseous. Of course, Veronica knew this was due to her impulsively smoking 24 cigarettes inside of her car after having not smoked for so long, and yet, the emotional side of her brain insisted that she was repulsed by having seen JD. 

She felt her body move itself, as if her body were at her house and her mind still at the hospital. She felt it pick itself off the ground, slam the car door, and shuffle inside. She felt her body pick up the pace on the stairs and before she knew it, she was leaning over her bathroom's toilet, hurling up everything she had downed that morning. 

When Veronica did take the chance to lean back, balancing her head on the edge of the toilet's bowl, she took notice of how overwhelming the lights in her bathroom were. She felt like she was in the same situation as two months ago. The lights blaring her consciousness away as she tried to end her life. She winced and closed her eyes, hoping that, somehow, _magically_, she would slip out of this world and into another, one where she didn't have to face the facts that JD was alive. 

She gritted her teeth. _Alive. He was still fucking alive._ She felt her hands ball up, clenched tightly around the bowl of the toilet, but something overcame her anger. She felt her anger drift and drain away from her as soon as it had seeped in. She was overcome with sadness once more. 

"Veronica? Honey? Are you alright?"

Veronica eyes snapped open and her face molded into a visible expression of displeasure at the remembrance of her parents being home. She didn't want to get off the floor, tidy herself up and pretend that everything was fine. She didn't want to move from her (somewhat) comfortable head-perch. She didn't want to have to do anything but sit there and mope. And yet, not wanting to risk another hospitalization, she yanked herself up off the floor.

Once she did stand up, she was almost knocked back down. Her legs instantly caved under her, leaving her sprawled out on her bathroom countertop for support. She gripped onto the edges of the sink and dragged her legs across the wooden flooring. She barely managed to slam the bathroom door and lock it before loud knocking rained upon it. 

"Veronica? Are you alright?" Her mother's concerned voice rang out. Veronica swore she could've heard the same fear in her voice as the day at the hospital, when she ran off and didn't come back for half an hour. 

Veronica felt her legs gain some sort of strength. She felt them straighten out and push her posture forward. She felt them move and slam her body against the door and then cave again, as if her legs were waging some sort of war against her. 

"Veronica?"

"Mom, I'm fine."

Veronica felt her back slide down the door until her rear landed softly on the bottom. She immediately curled up into a ball and sighed softly into her arms. She heard her mother softly speaking words of comfort and how she'd "always be there". Her mother seemingly went on forever, offering her endless support. Veronica was slowly but surely getting more annoyed by it. She wanted nothing more than peace and quiet, an opportunity to mope about her feelings and sulk; not to listen to her mother rant on and on about how much she cared about her well-being. 

Eventually, her mother did stop. Turned on her heel and jogged back downstairs, to sit with her husband and vent her concerns about her daughter. Veronica just sat there and stared at the hardwood paneling. Letting certain thoughts drift in and out of her mind. Of course, the most central thought in her mind was JD. _It was always fucking JD, wasn't it?_ She always had to listen and help him with his problems, but when it came to hers, he didn't even bother to listen, just hopped the gun straight to murder.

And yet, despite her unbridled rage, she couldn't erase the image of him strapped to his bed, pure confusion splattered all over his face. His body appearing so fragile with a thousand or so wires attached to him to keep him alive. She couldn't shake the guilt she felt from seeing him there; so helpless, as if her mind expected him to be some sort of savage beast still. 

If she was being fully honest with herself, that wasn’t what she expected. She expected him to still have his memories, his charm, his sociopathic tendencies; she still expected him to be the same person who loudly confessed his plan to blow up her school. She didn't expect him to be, well, normal. Not psychotic. 

Veronica shook her head and planted her hands firmly into the ground, attempting to shake off her emotional baggage. She shuffled over to her toilet and flushed it before slowly getting undressed to take a shower.

. . .

It was another tremulous day in the life of Jason Dean. Now that he had found out who his ex-girlfriend was and her burning hatred for him, he didn't really have a will to live. There was really no purpose to his existence anymore. He was doubtful of ever getting let out of the hospital, and beyond that, he had no place to go. 

And thus, he began to plan his suicide.

It would be simple; nothing extravagant or extreme like before. He’d just merely jump off a bridge or in front of a car. Something swift and quick. Something that would hopefully fully kill him off, instead of putting him in a coma and sending him straight back to this hell.

Maybe he’d even get a funeral. Doubtful of that, he was, however. Afterall, his father didn’t even care enough to stay with him and everyone else hated him. He’d be surprised if he even got a gravestone. Or if his body even fully got buried, instead of being dumped in some ditch somewhere.

Despite his multiple therapists urging him on, attempting to comfort him by relenting the fact that he could tell them anything, he kept his suicidal ideologies to himself, for fear of them keeping him there longer than he wanted to be. He would force a smile at all of them, lying through his teeth about his desire to finish high school, get a job, and move on with life. Telling them about how his anger was vanishing and that he had no desire to harm anyone anymore.

Granted, the things he was saying about his anger were mostly true. His ire and supposed inconsolable rage he had before he blew himself had faded away. Though, deep within him, he felt an inextinguishable ball of fire. A ball of anger and resentment towards everyone and everything. To the situation he was in. To his father. To the hospital staff. To himself. A ball of anger that he had, and would continue to, suppress. 

He shuffled back towards his room with the assistance of the nurses. Slowly but surely, he felt his body regenerating, building back the strength it lost. It wasn’t sudden, but every so often he was able to actually use one of his limbs without it failing to do its designed purpose. It felt nice, somewhat. JD was certain it would feel a lot nicer if he had another body entirely.

As his room door shut for the night, he was subjected to another night of self-loathing and never-ending thoughts of what could’ve been.

. . .

Veronica’s footsteps were the only thing she could hear as she sprinted into Westerburg, the remnants of the night not too far behind her. 

After taking her shower (Of which she spent mostly moping) Veronica wandered into her room and collapsed onto her bed. Her parents came by periodically, checking in on her and offering her anything they thought would cheer her up. In response to their offers, Veronica would turn her cheek the opposite direction and remain silent. 

She did, eventually, fall asleep, the lull of her exhaustion winning past her guilt, shutting her eyes and only letting them flutter open upon hearing the annoying pitch of her alarm. She slammed the alarm off and took her time getting out of bed.

She tossed on a plain pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. She didn’t really bother to gaze at her appearance in the mirror. She merely pulled a comb through her hair and headed out the door.

And yet, despite her lack of effort to get ready, she still managed to be late for school.

Her lateness stemmed from her drive to Westerburg. Veronica didn’t pay attention as to where she went. She simply drove and drove, winding around corners and speeding through yellow lights. She drove and drove, with a certain numbness in her mind. Unlike the night before, it was relaxing, soothing, a break from her intrusive thoughts destroying her. Being as relaxing as it was, Veronica bathed in it. She drove for a solid hour and only remembered that she needed to be somewhere upon taking a gander at her car’s clock.

Remembering that high school was a thing, Veronica stepped on her gas and floored it to Westerburg. The numbness in her mind had been replaced with a mild panic. Her JD thoughts were shoved to the back of her mind in favor of her freaking out over being tardy to first period.

Veronica did manage to arrive just three minutes before the bell. She booked it into the school, slinging her bag over her shoulder and harshly slamming her car door. She nearly tripped climbing up the stairs. She managed to catch herself, regain composure, and move on faster than the blink of an eye.

Once she had mounted the stairs, she felt her body let out a small sigh of relief. She was already on the verge of being late, the last thing she needed was an emotional break-down on the stairs where just a few months ago she watched her boyfriend try to commit suicide.

She slammed her arms into the door handle and pushed inside, panting lightly and feeling her feet take her to her first period as fast as they could. The hallways were barren and empty, most likely from every student being where they were supposed to, and the only sounds that echoed throughout were Veronica’s heavy pants and footsteps. 

When she reached her first period, after nearly comedically slamming into the door, she quietly took her place in class, ignoring questioning stares from fellow classmates and awaiting instruction. 

First period passed by painfully slow, with Veronica absent-mindedly staring out the window at the passing cars on the highway rather than paying attention to whatever her calculus teacher was saying. She somewhat envied the cars. It sounded silly, sure, but watching the cars speed away and out of Sherwood filled Veronica with the desire to be free. Be free of being Veronica Sawyer, be free of being held down by these mental shackles JD had placed on her.

The bell rung, demanding students to pick up their belongings and head to their next class. Veronica didn’t really want to go to second period. She liked staring out the window. It gave her a distraction from the ever-lasting guilt and worry in her mind. 

Shuffling along to second period, Veronica accidentally locked eyes with Heather. Heather appeared to have a blank expression on her face until she saw Veronica, of which, her face lit up with a smile that Veronica thought would break her jaw. Veronica felt her face muscles contort into a tiny smile as an automatic reply.

“Veronica, hey!” Heather waved rapidly as she raced towards her. Once Heather was by her side, she was able to get a much better look at her. Heather had on a light yellow blouse and a white skirt. Her appearance, when compared to Veronica’s, was a lot less ragged and messy, like Heather actually put effort into how she looked. 

“Hey.” Veronica’s reply was hushed and was easily lost in the deafening noise that was the student body. 

“So, where were you this morning?” Heather softly wrapped her fingers around Veronica’s forearm and yanked her aside. Behind the (somewhat) privacy of her and Heather’s second period teacher’s door, Heather let her mask fall; her smile faded away to a stare of concern and worry.

Veronica opened her mouth to reply, but her voice got caught in her throat. She simply couldn’t form any words, as if seeing JD had put a lock on her throat. She closed her mouth and took one last glance at Heather, her look of concern making her heart pound faster. 

Heather looked around nervously before shuffling closer to Veronica. “Is- is it him?” 

Veronica didn’t bother to return Heather’s gaze as she absentmindedly listened to the bell ring.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, I mean, I thought you knew, I mea-” Heather’s voice got caught in her throat as her eyes welled with tears, she blindly reached forward and clung onto Veronica’s shirt. “I’m so sorr-”

“Hey! Do you two have a hall-pass?” The high-pitched and screechy voice of Ms. Flemming abruptly cut across Heather’s cries. Veronica looked up to see her rapidly approaching, referrals in hand. 

“Hey, it’s alright, they’re out with the yearbook committee.” Another voice rang out in reply to Flemming’s. Veronica was sure she was hallucinating at what she had just heard. And yet, to her somewhat dismay, she watched as the form of Heather Duke came winding around the corner. A tight green blazer wrapped around her rather chubby form and a navy blue skirt that neared her knee-caps. 

She handed Ms. Flemming a small slip of paper and watched as she muttered something to herself before walking off. Duke locked eyes with Veronica and gave her a smirk before heading off down the hall herself.

Heather unhooked herself from Veronica’s shirt. “What just happened?” 

Veronica shrugged and bit her tongue. Although she would love to do nothing more than pour out her emotions to Heather, to someone who would actually understand and relate to her, to someone who would be able to cling to her and tell her it was alright, taking one last look at Heather’s tear-strung face, Veronica opted not to. She was destroying herself at the seams and didn’t necessarily want to drag Heather into it. Heather deserved a break from all the drama and endless fighting; she had only been in the Heathers for three years. She deserved, above all others, peace and tranquility.

Veronica wrapped her fingers around Heather’s shoulders, watching as Heather’s blue eyes gazed into Veronica’s. “Heather, it’s nothing, I’m just a little bummed out about my parents, that’s all.”

“You swear?” 

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a great night! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, very busy with show, plus my show ended, plus it was my birthday and hnnnnnn yeah

Heather felt her smirk dissipate as she trotted around the corner and out of the glaring beam that was Veronica's eye-sight. She felt her back slouch and her stomach let go. A small ball of anxiety managed to quell and be silenced upon having been released from her stare. She glanced around quickly before slinking into an unoccupied bathroom and slouching onto the floor, her head buried between her knees.

As the sickening silence of the bathroom swarmed her, she her cheeks burn and her eye-sight start to blur. She knew it was going to happen. It always happened to her. Overwhelming guilt for her actions also shackled her to these mono-meltdowns just out of sight from help. It wasn't that Heather wasn't forgiven, per say, by the majority of people. Granted, after the entire JD and Veronica craze, Heather went through a re-evaluation of her actions and apologized sincerely to almost everybody. The majority of the school forgave her almost instantly, stating that her actions were a thing of the past and they could tell she had genuinely changed.

And yet, despite apology after apology, sincerity laced with each, she had never found the way to apologize to the person she had hurt the most.

Heather McNamara had a special place in Heather's heart. Whether it was her dorkiness that made Heather laugh or her kindness whenever Heather was tormenting her, Heather always was there for her. A place of comfort to lean back on, a friendly face to see in an otherwise unfriendly environment, a genuine person who she knew she could trust. 

It was so perplexing to Heather how she threw all of that away, four years worth of friendship and solid trust because she thought chasing after her former bully's position was somehow more important. She had (somewhat) let the words of her fellow classmates convince her that it was so many years of manipulation and pent up aggression towards her oppressor, that once she was granted the freedom to do what she wanted, her mind was trained to become a carbon-copy of Heather.

It didn't make her feel any better, if anything, it worsened her the ever-growing pile of guilt that had permanently pitted itself into her stomach.

. . .

_ It was a windy October morning. Heather shivered slightly as the wind blew up her new skirt and dusted itself softly across her legs, spelling out a pleasant sight for a couple of jocks standing a few feet behind her, but a not so pleasant feeling for herself. She brushed off their sexual comments about how she should've lifted it up for them. She wasn't, and never was, going to be interested in them.  _

_ Holding her books firmly in her arm, she wrapped her palm around the handle of the door and ripped it open, storming inside and somewhat relishing the heat that blasted in her face as a response. If only Westerburg didn't hold the presence of Heather Chandler, Heather would've found herself a bit more relaxed. _

_ She walked through the halls, getting various comments on her skirt, (most of them perverse) and having the final comment on her skirt be an insult from the person who told her to wear it in the first place.  _

_ "Heather, have you put on weight? Your thighs are huge." The almighty Chandler, dressed in her usual red blazer and black skirt hadn't even bothered to give Heather a full look, too distracted admiring herself in a locker mirror, she had merely gazed at her from the side and spoke. From around Heather, Heather could see the small, wavering form of Heather, dressed in a light yellow blazer and a dark brown skirt. Heather gave her a tiny smile. _

_ Upon hearing Heather's off-handed comment, Heather felt her stomach sink. A small ball of anxiety immediately began to churn her insides and she felt tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She bit down harshly on her tongue to cease the crying, which resulted in the disgusting taste of blood falling down her throat.  _

_ "Nice skirt, babe." Somebody passing by yelled at Heather. The slamming of a locker and a swift turn to whomever yelled the comment distracted Heather from her tears. _

_ "I'm sorry, did anybody fucking ask you?" Heather's voice spoke cruelly to whoever had yelled the perverse remark.  _

_ Heather sighed and turned the dial to her locker, opening it, shoving her biology textbook inside and ripping her math textbook out. She could still hear Heather screeching at the poor guy. From the side, Heather felt a soft hand on her shoulder. The hand, of course, belonged to Heather, who gave her a warm smile and gently pulled her into a hug. Heather felt her breathing shake as her head fit into the crevice of Heather's shoulder.  _

_ Heather had this weird ability, it was almost as if she were psychic, whenever Heather didn't feel well, she would pull her into these warm embraces and run her hand up and down her back. Heather felt her cheeks flush as Heather slowly let go and gave her one last reassuring squeeze.  _

_ The bell rang and Heather skipped off to class as Heather turned back from butchering the perverse guy's esteem.  _

_ The rest of the day passed by uneventfully, aside from perverse comments from a surprising amount of guys, and was almost over when Heather gripped her arm after seventh period and shoved her aside. _

_ They both stood there, awkwardly gazing at each other as they both waited for the crowd to dissolve. Once it did, Heather leaned back and assumed her polished posture. _

_ "Heather, you need to lose some weight-" _

_ "Heather, I-" Heather tried to cut across Heather's words, hoping that in some way, she could see the damage they were inflicting on her heart, the slashes they were forming in her mind, the knots of anxiety they were creating in her stomach. She hoped, that in some way, that her minor interruption would show to Heather many times she herself had thought this, how many times she tried, and failed, to get rid of it. _

_ "Shut up, Heather!" Heather snarled back in reply. Heather's eyes welled with tears and she felt one slip out almost instantly. Something in Heather's eyes changed, her brows inverted and her posture bent slightly, but all composure was regained in less than a blink of an eye. "Lose the weight, it's embarrassing enough having to see it on someone who is supposed to be at the top, but once the shock of you wearing a skirt wears off, it's just going to be embarrassing for the both of us, you hear me?" _

_ "Sorry, Heather." Heather let the tears drip down aimlessly across her face, yet she snapped her mouth shut to avoid any sobbing.  _

_ "And grow up, Heather, crying is so '85." And with that, Heather turned on her heel and strutted down the hall and out of line of sight. Heather listened intensely to the clacking of her heels and once they were far enough away, she let her mouth open to release a massive sob.  _

_ Heather quickly darted into the nearest bathroom she could find and locked herself in the largest stall, sinking down to the floor and letting her self-loathing thoughts wash all over her. Why? Why, for once, couldn't she just be good enough? Why was her body so disgusting? Why were her thighs as large as they were? Why couldn't they just be smaller? Why couldn't she just be perfect? She slammed her hands against the floor again and again before crumpling down onto the floor, a sobbing mess. _

_ The sound of the bathroom door creaking open immediately silenced Heather. She hastily muffled herself and bit down harshly on her tongue to stop the tears, this only resulted in the wound she formed earlier to open back up and draw blood. _

_ "Heather? It's me, Heather, it's okay." Heather's calming voice was like music to her ears. She felt her pounding heart slow and her sobs subside mildly. The stall door she resided behind slowly creaked open. Behind it was the concerned expression of Heather. She walked inside the stall, closed it shut, and joined Heather on the ground. "Hey." She snaked an arm Heather's shoulders and immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. _

_ Heather's heart skipped a beat as she maneuvered her face into the crook of Heather's neck. She returned the embrace and felt as Heather ran her hands up and down her back. Her sobs slowly began to subside and her breathing slowly started to steady. Soon, all of her worries and anxieties had faded back into the back of her mind. Her thoughts instead let her heart pound and her cheeks burn. Heather's breaths began shallow once more, but for an entirely different reason then from before. _

_ "I heard what Heather said, I'm so sorry." The knot in Heather's stomach returned. It deepened and made Heather feel extremely sick. She shoved Heather off of her and whipped around to lean over the toilet bowl. What actually happened next was still blurry in Heather's mind. She could vaguely remember puking. Vomiting and vomiting, with Heather's hand on her back as emotional support. Eventually, the puking did stop and Heather collapsed into Heather's arms, a tired, emotionally unstable mess. _

_ Heather went home with Heather that day and poured everything out to her. Her depression. Heather's abuse. Her eating disorder. Her body dysmorphia. Everything Heather could've possibly needed to know. Throughout telling Heather her pains, Heather had a small fear that she was overwhelming Heather with her problems. After all, before this day, the most emotionally supportive thing they did for each other were reassuring pats on the back-and now here they were, one side pouring out her life's story and the other listening intensely with the most caring eyes. _

_ When Heather did finish her vent, Heather wrapped her in a warm embrace and promised her that it was going to be okay, that, no matter what Heather or the assholes at their school said, that they could always rely on each other. Heather cupped Heather's face and promised her, a speech laced with sincerity and empathy, that she would always be there for her. _

_ "I'm always here for you, Heather." Heather pulled her into another hug. "I love you." Heather's cheeks lit up at hearing this muffled confession. Or was it a confession? After all, Heather was straight, there was no way she woul-. Heather blinked and mentally shook away the thought. She was a Heather, she didn't need to be thinking this way. And yet, despite her half-hearted attempts to bury the feeling, she couldn't control how fast her heart kept beating around Heather. _

_ After that night, Heather and Heather were practically inseparable. Heather spent more nights at Heather's mansion than she spent at her own house that year. She relished in the comfort Heather provided. Around Heather, Heather was able to let her mask slip and fall. She was able to cry without being reprimanded, eat without being judged, and speak freely without being told to shut up. They both relied on each other when personal problems arose and Heather swore that if it wasn't for Heather during her Sophomore year, Heather wouldn't have stuck around. _

_ The following Junior year their friendship got slightly more complicated. Even though they were still close at the beginning of the year, the number of sleepovers lowered drastically and the amount of times they got sappy with each other was almost non-existent. Heather started spending more time with Heather, adopting a few of her mannerisms and habits, and starting dressing according to what Heather told her to. Heather didn’t mind Heather’s attempts to befriend Heather, however, as she relished the fact that she had given her friend the confidence to be able to talk to Heather. _

_ Then Senior year came. And it all went to Hell.  _

_ Heather and Heather’s friendship from the Sophomore year was almost non-existent; it was a whispery memory of past events and traumas, a soft memory that only spoke out in moments of jealousy. Their friendship had been entirely reduced back to what it was before; tiny pats on the shoulders and comforting smiles after being yelled at by Heather. _

_ To say that Heather wasn’t jealous of Heather would be a lie. She had always envied Heather, whether it was her almost natural air of superiority or the way she was able to command a room with her mere presence, she always had something that someone would envy. But during the beginning of Senior year, she began to envy Heather for a different reason. All of Heather’s attention went to Heather. _

_ No matter what Heather did, said, or wore, Heather’s attention was always given to Heather, as if she were some sort of God. It started off small, with Heather always attempting to make small talk with Heather in attempts to impress her and the almost constant sucking up, but gradually grew in a short amount of time. It seemed as if Heather was a third wheel to Heather and Heather. Heather had no clue as to why Heather preferred talking to Heather rather than her, especially considering the fact that Heather treated her like pure garbage, constantly berating her and silencing her into submission with her almost iconic catchphrase.  _

_ Every single “Shut up, Heather!”, every single “Stop talking.” every single “Silence, please.” Heather saw Heather’s pain shine through. Heather could admit that Heather had gotten increasingly better at concealing her emotions. Her mask was no longer porcelain and easily breakable. It had molded itself into a harder material, one that could take multiple blows before even showcasing a crack. And yet, despite Heather’s poker face, Heather could see through it. She could see the glisten in her eyes, the softened tone of her voice, and the way Heather’s posture would minorly slouch.  _

_ Every hairline crack, every spider-web formed, every fracture, Heather noticed. Heather noticed and tried to take action. Several times during their Junior year, Heather would pull Heather aside, attempting to engage in a private conversation, in hopes to get Heather to drop her mask and talk to her. And every single time, Heather would smile, cocked her head to the side similarly to how Heather did, and dismissed Heather’s concerns.  _

_ Heather knew Heather was lying. Heather knew that Heather wasn’t okay. She knew that Heather had more emotional baggage than ever before. But Heather just didn’t know how to get her to take off her mask, how to convince Heather that her showing emotion wouldn’t make her weak. So, eventually, Heather stopped trying to help Heather. She stepped back into line, giving off comforting stares and sympathetic smiles, never intervening into the action; merely a bystander. It felt incredibly wrong to watch her friend get berated and abused while she stood by and smiled, pretending as if nothing was wrong, but there simply wasn’t more that she could do. Heather shoved off her attempts to be friendly and Heather was, well, Heather. You couldn’t rely on her for emotional stability more than you could rely on a rickety bridge to safely carry you across. _

_ Senior year brought in the friendly face of Veronica Sawyer. Heather quickly got attached to Veronica. She admired Veronica. Veronica was gutsy and honest, but had her flaws as well. She very easily gave into the demands of Heather, whether or not they tested her morals. Because of this, Heather never really bothered to form an extremely close relationship with her. Veronica was a rather flaky friend, or so Heather thought, until Heather, Kurt and Ram died. Until all three of the people she had come and known as reliable people had passed. There was still Heather, of course, but Heather had undergone certain changes. These changes happened seemingly overnight from Heather’s funeral. Heather’s attire changed from green to red, she stole Heather’s scrunchie, and had an eerily similar air of superiority to her everything.  _

_ It was at this point that Heather started becoming the very thing she hated. She practically embodied the spirit of Heather. Instead of Heather being uptight and emotionally reserved, now it was Heather. Heather felt as if she wasn’t allowed to cry or frown or show any sign of an imperfection around Heather. It was ugly feeling. It drove Heather insane. Pent up emotions of sadness, grief, loss, and anxiety, which all couldn’t be released because the very person she relied had turned into the reason why she buried those emotions. _

_ Of course, try to bottle something up and it only explodes. Heather’s confession to the TV was a cry for help more than anything. A cry that she, a Heather, was suffering. A cry to Heather, a futile one, that Heather needed her. The old her. The actual her. Not the one that was a cheese imitation of Heather, but Heather herself. _

_ It didn’t work. Instead, Heather unleashed a fury upon her. Gripping her arm and snarling that if Heather didn’t like it at Westerburg, that she should “catch a gnarly wave over to Remington.” Heather didn’t realize it at the time, but Heather’s angry had a tone of regret plastered into it. A tone of somewhat sorrow. Heather didn’t care though, because Heather was still being a bitch.  _

_ It was only because of Veronica that Heather was still alive. Running in and slamming her into the floor and forcing the pills out of her mouth. It was at this moment that Veronica proved to Heather that she could be a stable and secure friend. A reliable friend. Whether or not her reliability came from Heather being dead and not constantly threatening Veronica with social suicide, Heather had no clue. _

_ After the TV show incident, Heather distanced herself significantly from Heather. Heather, of course, did take wind of this. She didn’t necessarily apologize, however. She merely had a lightened tone around her and gave her tiny smiles. Heather would return these smiles with a flash of hatred in her eyes. This person, who at one point she had deeply cared for and trusted, had breached all of that. She didn’t like Heather anymore. She couldn’t trust Heather anymore. Heather was far too unreliable and flaky for her to even consider wanting to rebuild a proper friendship with her. So, they went back to what they originally were; business partners.  _

_ Veronica’s tearful speech to the school, covered from head to toe in soot, about how all of Westerburg needed to relinquish the titles they had and simply enjoy life together impacted everyone. Her ripping out Heather’s scrunchie from Heather’s hair was only the icing on a well-baked cake. It showed how dumb titles were really were. How power could be stripped, and how in high school, it was all meaningless. So, without words, everyone made a pledge that day, to be kind to one another before having to face a genuinely cruel world. _

_ Heather was rather unhappy the first few days of Westerburg’s reformation. She didn’t necessarily walk around and hurl insults at students for hanging out with one another and being kind, but she painted herself with a scowl and displeasurable mood. Everyone merely assumed she was going through a reformation period. Mannerisms from being in a clique for three and a half years were not something unlearned overnight.  _

_ Heather did eventually melt into the new Westerburg, namely after a group of students that she had bullied relentlessly since Freshman year came up to her and said they forgave her. That they understood she had made a terrible choice but that they hoped she was willing to change if they gave her the chance. She smiled and tearfully accepted, giving them all sincere apologies. And then she apologized to everyone she had ever wronged. The nerds. The geeks. The preps. Everyone. _

_ But there was one group she could never bring herself to apologize to. That would be Veronica’s group. No matter how many times she gave herself pep talks, was encouraged by other students, or prepared in advance, she always chickened out. When it came down to it, Heather was simply non-confrontational. She was always silenced by Heather so she learned to avoid her problems. This, of course, became a glaring issue when she realized how poorly she had treated Heather. _

_ Heather was her first friend. Heather, for the longest time, was her only friend. A person who she could rely on, talk to, and trust. And although Heather would try to deny her feelings, for the longest time, Heather was her crush.  _

_ What words could possibly mend a friendship strained and broken by a selfish want for power? A friendship that, if Heather wasn't so concerned what others thought, could've gone on to have been something beautiful. What could she possibly say the fix that? _

. . .

The bell’s obnoxious blaring jarred Heather out of her sulk. She hopped to her feet, dusted off her skirt, and headed out to third period. Her thoughts of her past actions shoved behind her in favor of a friendly smile and wave to some of her fellow third period classmates.

One day, she kept telling herself. One day she would find the courage and time to track Heather down and spill everything out to her. An apology to the way she treated her, an explanation for her shitty behavior, and a proposal to renew their friendship, to start anew and rebuild what once was. To be given a second chance to prove she had changed for the better, not reverted back into who she was during her Sophomore year, not a suck-up like her Junior year, but a genuinely different person who wanted the ability to mend their mistakes.

Despite everyone's happy expressions and joyful smiles to see her, Heather still felt extremely alone. Who else could promptly relate to having had manipulated and abused someone to the point that they were repulsed by your existence, but yet you still wanted to prove that you had changed? Heather longed for someone she could sit down with and talk. To talk and relate about how she wanted sock herself in the face. She hoped to find that somebody sooner rather than later. Her loneliness was starting to eat her alive, and despite what other's might've originally thought of her, she still wanted to get out of Westerburg alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> sorry for slow updates but it is NaNo month and my plan is to write the fuuuuuuuck for this and my other work, Not Average, so look forward to that!! Haha! 
> 
> Thanks guys, see you soon. <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone :)))

The rest of Veronica’s day went by fine. Aside from her small ire at Heather’s existence, Veronica didn’t necessarily feel anything. Just an overwhelming amount of numbness. She didn’t know what to think. Her mind was in another plane of existence entirely, while her body was stuck on earth, at Westerburg, merely observing herself wander through the day.

Eventually, it did end, the bell for her final class tolling and students bustling out of the doorway. Veronica took a moment to gather everything before shuffling out herself, her biology teacher mumbling a goodbye that Veronica heard, but didn’t acknowledge. The halls of Westerburg were always chaotic, with or without the Heathers. Everyone being kinder didn’t make them any less hesitant to leave. Pushing and shoving often followed by shouts of ‘Sorry, man!’ was common. Veronica leaned against the doorframe and observed. She wanted to leave, sure, but she also wanted to leave  _ unscathed _ . The chaos didn’t last long, and soon, Veronica was slowly walking down a sparsely populated hallway, the remnants of the day left in nothing but soft echoes at the ends of each corridor.

Veronica hummed softly to herself, listening to the stomping and running of feet against the floor. It was oddly peaceful. The corners of Veronica’s lips staggered up. 

And then someone grabbed her arm.

Veronica’s mind immediately came back to her body and her stomach dropped. The arm proceeded to attempt to pull Veronica in the direction right of her. Her heart pounded and she started to shake. Her mind instantly thought of JD. Was he discharged early? He did seem physically healthy last Veronica saw of him. How was he let back into Westerburg? Veronica would’ve definitely been told something if he had. How could he have caught up to her so quickly? It didn’t matter, she had to fight back,  _ she had to fight back,  _ ** _she had to fight back. _ **

The scenery around her melted back into the maroon glow of the boiler room. Her vision blurred as she could vaguely hear the ticking of the bomb in the back.  ** _She couldn’t let him do this. She had to fight back._ ** She could hear the breathing of JD on her shoulder, shallow breaths, his eyes ready to burst at any second. She felt his harsh grip on her arm as he tried to wrestle her away from the gun.  ** _Fight back. She had to fight back._ **

Veronica screamed. It was a piercing noise, more shrill than what she usually screamed at. She hoped the pitch of her scream would alert somebody,  _ anybody _ , that this was a scream for help, and not a scream of a student getting trampled by the crowd.

It didn’t matter, however, because a hand hastily covered her mouth in an attempt to mute the sound.

This was it. Veronica had visited him and reignited his obsession with her. Now, he was going to kill her. He was going to kill her and everyone at Westerburg. She refused to listen and this was the consequence.  _ She had failed them.  _

Veronica’s body slowly gave in. Her heart pounded, her breathing was shallow, but she knew she couldn’t fight back. 

And then it came. Her small, in-extinquishable ball of anger. Her anger that she had repressed and swallowed ever since the beginning of her Freshman year. Anger at the Heathers, anger at her high school, anger at the world, but most of all, anger at JD.

Her body shot back up with a vengeance. She wasn’t going to give into JD. She wouldn’t let him win.  ** _She was going to fight back. _ **

Quickly and harshly, Veronica bit down on the hand muffling her. The tangy taste of blood slowly trickled into her mouth as an immediate yelp in pain followed.

“What the fuck!” The grip on her right shoulder released. 

Veronica whipped around immediately. “Heather fucking Duke.”

Heather grit her teeth as she attempted to use her blazer as a bandage for her wound. “Veronica fucking Sawyer,” Heather rolled her eyes as she tightened her grip on the blazer. “Are you some kind of fucking animal now?”

“Don’t you know not to randomly grab people or do you lack common sense?” Veronica spat out her reply. Heather’s eyebrows knotted down before softly fading up.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how else I’d get you to talk to me.” Heather frowned and averted her gaze to the ground before flickering back up to Veronica.

Veronica kept her glare on Heather, unwavering. “Well, I’m here now, what do you need?” She intensified her glare.

Heather sighed and shrugged softly. She chuckled to herself before letting the smile dissipate and disappear. She reached inside her blazer and pulled out a polaroid photo. It was small in width and appeared to have been crumpled several times. Heather smiled at the image before handing it to Veronica, who snatched it out of her hands. 

Upon seeing the photo, Veronica’s anger melted. It was an old photo, with the top corner containing the date “3/18/88”. It was a picture of Heather and Heather, happily side-hugging one another while flashing the largest grins towards the camera. The corners of Veronica’s lips threatened to tug into a smile. They both looked so genuinely happy. Heather’s eyes were bright and vibrant, with the only evidence of her hardships being the small bags under her eyes. Veronica snuck a peek at Heather, who was absentmindedly fidgeting with her hands. Taking another glance at the photo, it was easy to see how much worse Heather had gotten. Her bags were enormous, the skin of her face was tightly stretched across her skull, and her teeth had started to erode away from her eating disorder.

Heather, on the other hand, hadn’t changed much from the photo. Her face did grow and meld into a longer, thinner face, but aside from that, she looked practically the same. 

Except she wasn’t. She may have looked the same, but Veronica could easily tell the difference. Within the photo, her smile, wide as the sun, was fully genuine, radiating joy and happiness. Every time Veronica saw Heather smile it was never this genuine, this real. It was always void. Void of joy. Happiness. Laughter. Just a blank expression; a poker face.

Veronica glanced back up to Heather. Did Heather really make Heather this happy? Once upon a time? Long ago, when things weren’t as complex? Veronica would kill to see Heather as happy as she was in the picture, would Heather really be the key to unlocking that?

“Okay,” Veronica’s eyebrows knotted down as she handed the picture back to Heather. She cocked an eyebrow. “So, what do you want?”

Heather pocketed the picture before returning Veronica’s gaze. “As you may have seen, sophomore year, Heather and I were very close friends. She helped me, I helped her, it was a very healthy relationship that I,” Heather sighed softly. “Fucked up.” 

Veronica found herself nodding in agreement to Heather’s statement. “Okay, so you’re recounting how shitty of a person you are? Why?”

“Listen, Veronica, I know you’re not the forgiving type, and I know I’ve definitely made your life a living Hell, but I want to fix that, I want to earn your trust back and mend what has been broken with both you and Heather.” Desperation laced Heather’s voice. It gave Veronica flashbacks to when JD would beg for her to come back, his voice full of nothing but desperation and want, want for her to return so he could continue to manipulate people. Veronica wasn’t going to let that happen, not again. She wasn’t going to let more people get hurt because she believed they could change.

“No,” Veronica growled, her eyes flashing a murderous stare at Heather. “You’ve done so much harm to not only the school and me, but to Heather. Heather deserves far better than to be dragged back down into whatever Hell you put her in. Just leave us, and namely her, alone.” And with that, Veronica stormed off, not bothering to listen to Heather’s cries and pleads for her to give her a chance to prove herself. 

Veronica didn’t believe in second chances anymore.

_ Veronica didn’t believe in forgiving people anymore. _

. . .

An unscheduled knock at JD’s door was something he never appreciated. It was always nurses doing random check-ups or the security guardian making sure he hadn’t tried to kill himself. With the misery in his life, JD often wished that the police would shoot him. Shoot first, analyze later, instead of locking him into this cage of misery.

He shouted for the person to come in.

The door opened slowly to reveal the form of Veronica. She locked eyes with JD and gave him a murderous glare. She kept this glare unwavering as she shut the door behind her and sat down.

“Hey.”

“Fuck off.”

“Alright, cool.” JD nodded in response to Veronica’s insult. He almost wanted to laugh at how unrealistically angry she was at him sometimes until he remembered that he nearly killed her and all of her friends. All of the laughter bubbling in his throat and face died immediately. He gave Veronica a perplexed glance.

“If you hate my existence so much, why do you keep visiting me?”

Veronica grit her teeth and opened her lips to reply, but the anger died halfway up her throat and her eyebrows creased.  _ Why did she keep visiting him?  _ She absolutely despised him, his mere existence infuriated her, so why did she keep seeing him? 

She knew he was a monster who couldn’t change, so what was she bothering trying to do? Did she think- no, there was no way. Veronica wouldn’t let herself think for a second that JD would,  _ could,  _ genuinely change. He wouldn’t, he was just playing some stupid mind-game in hopes of confusing her.

But, sneaking another glance at him, feeling her brows unfurl at his extremely meek and helpless state, Veronica’s heart panged with guilt. She shifted her gaze off the ground and stood up, hoping to shake off the guilt by the time she stood up. Unfortunately for Veronica, her guilt wrapped itself tightly around her, encasing her like rope and tightening every time she tried to get angry.

“I’m going to 7/11, do you want a slushie?”

JD glanced up at her, eyebrow cocked in confusion. “What?”

Veronica didn’t reply. She stared him down with a blank expression. Car keys dangling out of one hand and the question hanging in the air, begging for a reply.

“Uhm, sure?” He remembered 7/11 very fondly. He spent more time there than his father spent with him. His favorite thing to do was to freeze his pain momentarily by gulping down slush. It helped ease the pain and aid the numbness. It would be nice to experience that soft pain again. Maybe he could unlock more of his past. 

“Cherry.” Veronica was halfway out the door and whipped back around. She cocked her head and her lips threatened to tug into a smile. She nodded and left. As the door shut, JD swore he saw her smile softly, as if his request for a certain flavor brought her memories of when they were genuinely happy together. JD felt his face flush and giggled softly to himself before his happiness died. He would kill to have those memories back, the memories they shared that were genuinely happy and real.

He would kill to see Veronica happy. 

He would kill himself if he had to.

. . .

Veronica screamed in pain as she pressed the lit cigarette bud to her upper forearm. Her arm seared and throbbed intensely as she pushed down her car’s window and threw out the bud. Hastily, she rolled the window back up. Veronica leaned back and sobbed. Her head pounded, with every sob worsening the pain. She couldn’t believe herself.  _ She had genuinely smiled at JD.  _ JD, the man who nearly killed everyone in her school.  _ She had let herself smile at him. _

She refused to acknowledge that what he said was void of malice and harmful intent. He knew what he was doing. He knew how mentally weak Veronica was.  _ All he was doing was using her.  _

Using the cuff of her t-shirt to wipe away her tears, she ignited her engine. Letting the pain of the burn sear its way into her mind and numb the ache. Ice cold drinks in the console, she pressed on the gas to speed away.

She drove around the hospital a total of five times before she snapped back to reality. She parked her car in a vacant lot and grabbed the frozen drinks. Slamming the car door behind her, she eyed the looming building over her. 

Suddenly, it hit her. The anxiety, the absolute fear of what she was doing. The nervousness and worry wrapped tightly around her and froze her almost still in place. If it wasn’t for her car auto-locking behind her, she was certain she would’ve stayed there, frozen in place.

. . .

The door opened and slammed shut as per usual. JD peeked open one of his eyes to catch a glimpse of who had entered the room. It was to his surprise and somewhat delight to see that it was Veronica who had entered. She gave him a look of pure misery, which caught JD off-guard, as she normally stared him down with hatred.

She shuffled over to his bedside and stretched her arm out from a safe distance. JD gave her an awkward smile and felt his cheeks flush as he struggled to get his arm out from under the covers. He felt a pit in his stomach when he realized that his arm wouldn’t be able to reach up that high. He sighed before motioning with his head towards the bedside table.

“Just put it there, please.”

Veronica didn’t respond, didn’t show any noticeable form of a reaction, though in her mind, she was silently cursing herself for being so stupid. She placed the drink down and sulked to her usual seat.

JD muttered a quiet, “Thank you.” as he attempted to reach for the frozen beverage. Veronica watched him struggle. She watched as he failed several times to get his arm up and on-top of the table. She watched as he quietly berated himself and muttered soft curses.

Every time he failed, guilt ran through Veronica’s bones. Everytime he berated himself, regret injected itself into Veronica’s heart. Everytime he just looked at himself, observing his mess of a body before trying again, embarrassment flew through her.    


_ He could barely even lift his arm and Veronica thought he was the person attacking her in the hall.  _

She didn’t know why, but she felt horrible. She always hated assumptions. Even when faced with proof that someone was a bad person, she always believed the best could come from them. This, of course, bit her in the ass when it came to JD. She quickly dropped that habit and starting believing the opposite,  _ that only the worst could come from someone _ , yet, she still felt horrible seeing him like this.

She shook her head, shaking away her thoughts of sympathy. She wouldn’t let herself feel remorse for such a loathsome person.

And yet, despite thoughts of pure hatred treading through her mind, seeing JD happily slurping on drink made her feel weirdly euphoric. She brushed it off and marked it as her reminiscing of all the dates they had at 7/11, but something about this felt oddly different.

“Didn’t we have our first date at a 7/11?”

JD’s question caught Veronica off-guard. She glanced at him, curiously. He stared back at her with the same expression. She analyzed him, searching every nook and cranny on his face in an attempt to find even the slightest hint that he was asking her to make her emotional. Nothing. No flash in his eyes, no blush of being caught lying, just pure curiosity.

Veronica let herself relax in the chair. She moved her back against its left arm bar and hauled her legs over the other. She smiled softly as she twindled with her fingers. Those 7/11 dates were some of the best things she had ever experienced. The jokes they cracked, memories they exchanged, struggles they compared. The lack of strife and almost consistent drinks. The way JD would smile, grab her hand, and guide her inside, kissing her cheek softly before doing so. The times they would skip out during lunch, (especially on the days where Heather decided to be the bitchiest bitch imaginable) and ride on his bike. The wind breezing through her hair and she listened to the soft thump of JD’s heart. Those 7/11 dates were the few good memories Veronica had left of JD after everything went down.

If Veronica was being honest, those 7/11 dates were the only thing about her relationship with JD that she couldn’t deny. That she couldn’t reject and believe that it was fake.  _ His faces, his emotions, the stories he told her on those dates, they were too  _ ** _real_ ** _ to have been fabricated. _

Veronica blinked. She interlocked her fingers and neatly set them on top of her chest. She took one last look at JD; his face was marked with anticipation. 

She shifted her gaze back to the ceiling, smiling at the memories. Those sweet,  _ sweet _ memories, that were, seemingly, all she had left.

“Our first date was at a 7/11, well, it wasn’t really a date, but rather, you and I happened to be there at the same time, you were moping about and I was getting corn nuts for Heather’s stupid party…”

And so on Veronica went, recounting the details of their first ‘date’ together. How Heather parked in a disabled spot, how JD’s first question to her was, “Do you want to supersize that?”, how he got her a blueberry slushie, how she enjoyed being around him, bantering with him. How he immediately opened up to her about his mom. How she cringed at first, but was honored that he trusted her with such sensitive information. How warm his hands were when he guided her back outside. How much she wanted to stay, but couldn’t due to Heather's whining.

Entranced in a dream-like state, drunk on the memories, Veronica continued on to how their second date went. And their third. And their fourth. All the way up until their seventh and final date together.

JD listened in awe, he observed Veronica’s face, as euphoria marked itself all over. He smiled at the joy that radiated off of her. His heart pounded everytime she chuckled, or would recount how they kissed. These dates, these precious memories, they slowly were creeping back in. Every story she told, another synapse in his brain decided to reignite, to give him back a,  _ happy _ , piece of his life. 

But, with all good things, there must be an end. Veronica recounted their seventh date with a faraway look in her eyes, the euphoria having long faded from her voice. Her eyebrows slowly returned to their creased look. Her eyelids dropped back down. Her smile gradually faded back into her usual frown. She recounted how distant JD was during that date, how he seemed to be consumed by his thoughts, too far into the clouds to actually have enjoyed spending time with her. 

“And then it all spiraled from there.” JD’s stomach twisted in a violent knot. His anxiety threatened to make him puke up the remains of the slushie.  _ He knew exactly what she was talking about. _

Veronica’s gut twisted horrendously. She eyed the clock on her wall to see the time. Her heart dropped upon seeing it.  _ She had spent well over two hours here.  _ Swiftly and quickly, Veronica stood up. She shot JD a fearful look and darted out of the room, slamming the door shut in a haste. 

JD watched in shock. He watched as his room rattled from her departure. He watched as the room slowly started to feel darker, more lonely, as if Veronica was a light. He turned over on his side and struggled the covers over his shoulders.   


He just wanted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry new year!!!
> 
> happy 2020 to all, been waiting for this year ever since 2016 lmao

_ January 18th, 1990 _

_ Dear diary, _

_ I’m stuck in my own sort of personal Hell. I found out that JD was alive, and for some reason, visited him. That’s a lie. I’ve visited him twice now. I don’t know why I came back or why I went in the first place. JD is <strike>supposedly</strike> a loathsome person, I get that, I do, everyone else does as well. But every time I see him, strapped to a bed, too weak to grab things, I can’t help but feel bad. _

_ I don’t want to feel bad. I don’t want to feel anything for him. I don’t know why I keep wanting to visit him. _

_ And worst of all, is that I’m completely alone with this issue. My parents would just freak out. Heather would freak out and blame herself. Martha would freak out and run away, and everyone else at Westerburg is completely terrified of JD’s existence. I can’t even bring up his name without getting glares from people. _

_ I know he’s a loathsome person, I know that he doesn’t deserve any sympathy, but I just wish I had someone, anyone to talk to. Someone who wouldn’t immediately call me a psycho. _

<strike> _ Maybe I could talk to JD about this. _ </strike>

** _No._ **

Veronica capped her pen and softly shut her diary. Quietly returning both her diary and her pen to her bag, she continued to absentmindedly stare out the window. Paying attention to her English teachers was something she was never fond of. They always blabbered on about literature and never taught. Veronica always ended up teaching herself. 

The bell ringing channeled Veronica out of her thoughts. She waited a moment before exiting the classroom, muttering a quiet goodbye to her teacher. Sauntering her way to the lunchroom, she only stopped for a moment to pry open her locker and shove her bag in. Her legs walked her the rest of the way while her mind lost itself in thought.

Heather met up with Veronica outside the lunchroom, shining a smile and only creasing her eyebrows in response to Veronica’s void look. Walking into the lunchroom, a pit formed in Veronica’s stomach. After the Heathers, _ after JD, _Veronica slowly started to hate large crowds and excessive talking. She didn’t know if it was an after-effect from Heather never shutting up or JD constantly blabbering nonsense. 

Taking a seat next to Heather, declining any dishes she was offered, Veronica’s hand slowly started to twitch. Veronica tried to shake it off at first, attempting to ignore the urge she felt. But it kept coming back, stronger and stronger. Then it spread up her arm, down her leg, and across her torso. Her breathing started to speed up and sweat sluggishly dragged itself down her back. 

She slammed her hands on the table and stood up. Attracting stares and cuing silence, Veronica cracked a smile at both Heather and Martha. “I’m going outside for a moment, please don’t follow me,” Heather opened her mouth to speak. “I said, ‘don’t follow me’.” Veronica gave Heather a sarcastic smile before reaching over and squeezing her shoulder. 

Veronica sashayed out of the lunchroom, waving at students and giving smiles to others. Once the doors were shut sound behind her, Veronica sighed. Her sigh quickly transcended into a groan. _ God, she fucking hated acting like that, but it was the only way to convince people that she was alright. _ She quickly made a pit stop at her locker, fumbling through her bag and withdrawing what she needed. She hastily shoved the pack and a lighter down her shirt and sensed both fall into her bra. Adjusting the straps on both sides to pull her bra closer to her. Glancing around swiftly to make sure no one saw her, she booked it down the hallway to the front door of Westerburg.

Veronica halted upon encountering the door. Raising a shaking hand, she gripped the metal bar and leaned forward, watching as the door swung open. Slowly, putting one foot in front of the other, hearing her heart count the steps, she stopped on the tenth step. Her knees threatened to buckle from behind her. She hastily sat down and messed with her bra, wiggling the pack out from under her and feeling the lighter fall out with it. Whipping out a cigarette and lighting it, she inhaled and exhaled, feeling the tremors in her body reduce significantly. 

Blowing the smoke out in front of her reminded her of when she watched JD explode on these steps. How the sound was deafening and the smoke billowed around her. How she nearly collapsed and started crying. How she wished she could’ve undone everything. _ How JD smiled before he died. Or almost died. _

Veronica blew more smoke before using her free hand to wipe a tear off her cheek. She hadn’t been on these steps ever since that day. Never bothered to visit them, never bothered to care, _ never stopped to grieve. _

It felt somewhat nice, being able to mourn what she had lost, away from the public. It may her feel slightly better. _ It would’ve made her feel entirely better if JD wasn’t still alive. Or would it? _

The main doors opened and shut behind her. Stealthily, Veronica moved her smoking hand in between her legs and killed the bud. She used her other hand to wipe away her tears. Slowly, in small amounts, she let out the smoke still in her mouth.

Footsteps came closer.

“I know you’re smoking,” _ Heather Duke. The last person Veronica wanted to deal with right now. _Heather lowered herself onto the ground next to Veronica. “It’s okay, you don’t have to hide it from me.”

Veronica nearly snarled back a harmful insult, but it died halfway up her throat. Curiously and cautiously, she gave Heather a glare.

“What the _ fuck _ do you mean by that?”

“I know you’re suffering and,” Heather averted her gaze exactly to where JD stood before flickering back to Veronica. “I’m not going to tell Heather or anyone, if you’re worried.” Heather shifted her legs so they were on top of each other. “I just felt like you needed a friend right now.”

Veronica wanted to glare at Heather. Veronica itched to snarl some insult at her. To fling accusations and confront Heather about manipulative she could be. To tell, _ to scream _ at her to _ fuck off _ and _ leave her alone _ . But, strangely, Veronica didn’t have it in her. All her anger had drained out of her. _ She didn’t want to be angry anymore. _

Veronica returned her gaze back to where JD had almost died. “How did you know I was out here?” Veronica gave Heather a half-amused look. “Are you stalking me?”

Heather inhaled sharply and cracked a grin. “No, of course not, I just, saw you leave the lunchroom and uh,” Heather sighed. “I saw you twitching, I know how it feels, uhm, to have ticks to do certain destructive habits, you know,” Heather motioned with her finger towards her mouth. 

Veronica smirked and thumbed her pack. “How is your whole, uh, bulimia thing going? Getting any better?”

“Uh, kind of, I don’t purge as much as I used to.” Pulling out a cigarette for herself, Veronica offered the pack to Heather. “No thanks.”

Veronica lit the cigarette. “So, I’m guessing you still purge from time to time?”

Heather averted her gaze to her thighs. “Sometimes.”

Veronica inhaled and exhaled. She returned her gaze to where JD stood.

“Is that where he died?” Heather’s voice was faint, as if she was afraid that mentioning JD would throw Veronica into a violent state. Veronica’s eyes welled with tears. She lifted the cigarette to her mouth and nodded. 

Heather put a soft hand on Veronica’s back as she slowly wiped away Veronica’s tears. “I get it,” Heather’s voice was soft and therapeutic. More tears streamed down Veronica’s face. Heather merely kept wiping them away.

“Heather, I miss him.” Heather eyed Veronica, eyebrows creased into a confused stare. Her hand rested firmly on her back, if not slightly tensed. Veronica stared back, letting her misery shine through.

Giving Veronica a soft smile, Heather’s grip on her back intensified. She pulled Veronica into a hug, placing her head on her shoulder and her head on top on of hers.

Veronica chuckled into Heather’s shoulder. “Heather, this is very nice and all, but I still had a lit cigarette in my mouth.”

Heather shrieked and threw Veronica back, immediately analyzing her right shoulder for any burn marks. Veronica threw back her head and barked out laughter. Waving the cigarette that she had transferred to her hand before Heather hugged her in front of her face. 

“Oh, fuck you!” Heather shoved Veronica back before letting out a few laughs. “You’re still the same dick from before, aren’t you?”

Veronica smirked and shrugged. “Sometimes.” Veronica threw the bud on the ground and grounded it beneath her foot. Cracking her neck, she turned to face Heather, her face drained of any joy and replaced with pure seriousness. “What do you want with Heather?”

Heather sighed. “Another chance.” Veronica nodded. She pulled out another cigarette for herself and, once again, offered the pack. Heather wordlessly took one. Holding it out, Veronica lit it before lighting her own. Taking one last look at where JD stood, analyzing the scorch marks, the way they emanated a circle. 

Veronica stuck her hand out to Heather. Silently, Heather shook it. 

“Me too.” 

. . . 

Veronica hummed to herself as she listened to the ringing on the phone. It rang once, twice, three times before being picked up.

“Hello?”

“Heather, hey.”

“Veronica! Oh, it’s so good to hear from you. I was really worried about you after you left during lunch! How are you?”

“Easy, easy, listen, we need to talk.”

“Okay, about what?”

“We need to talk about _ Heather. _”

There was a brief pause.

“Alright.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trhrtjkshtrhjyngdbvfgrw

“Listen, _ listen, _ I _ know _Heather is a bitch, I get it, trust me I really do, but,”

“No, you can’t but me, Veronica, you don’t exactly understand me and Heather’s history together, you don’t understand how many times I’ve given her a second chance.”

Sighing, Veronica blew a piece of her hair away. “Okay, look, I get that, Heather has been an absolute bitch to me too, but we had a little talk and-”

“Is _ that _ why you left during lunch? To go talk to _ her? _”

Veronica sighed. “No, Heather, she followed me out there.”

_ “ _And why didn’t you just send her back inside?”

“I tried to, Heather, I tried to, but _ I’m tired, okay? _ I am so tired of being angry at things I can’t control, _ okay? So, will you please?” _Veronica paused for a moment to see if Heather would cut her off again, to spout on about Veronica knew nothing and how Heather was irredeemable. To Veronica’s surprise, she was met with silence.

“Okay, Heather is a very questionable person, I know, but she came to me, and expressed that she wanted another chance.”

Silence. 

“She, uhm, was very sincere in the way she told me about it.”

More silence.

“Heather, are you stil-”

And then, Veronica heard it. _ Sobbing _. Extremely quiet and soft, Veronica instantly assumed that Heather had muffled herself or the phone in some sort of way. 

“Heather, are you okay?”

The sobbing slowed slightly. Sniffling, Heather choked out a reply. “_ I care about her, Veronica, I really do,” _ Heather sharply inhaled. “ _ I just don’t want to go through it all again. _” 

Veronica bit her lip. She knew _ exactly _ how Heather felt. The countless nights she spent, sobbing over the loss of JD. How she wanted to hate him, _ desperately wanted to despise his existence _ , but couldn’t stop her guilt from choking her, and bringing her into her own personal hell. It would’ve been so much easier if JD had just _ died. If he had ceased to exist. _ Veronica wouldn’t have any guilt, she would have no questions in her mind, no doubts to cloud her conscious, no questioning of her own morals, her actions. _ She’d be free. _

_ That _ must’ve been what Heather was feeling right now. The want to hate someone she once cared for. The urge to forget all the good moments with them. The desire to despise their existence and force their name to be the equivalent of sin. 

But, how can one erase so many memories together? Vunerables shared and insecurities comforted. How could one possibly escape the seemingly endless guilt brought on by seeing that person suffering? It feels _ good, _at first, to see that person suffer. To have their self-esteem driven into the ground and have doubts and insecurities cloud their mind. But afterwards? It was weird. To have that euphoria fade and guilt and questioning replace it.

“Heather, _ I completely understand _.” Sighing, Veronica shifted the phone to her right ear. “But sometimes you need to forgive what you think is unforgivable.”

“I get that.” There was a brief pause, filled with nothing but sniffling. “I’ll talk to her.”

“And if she does revert back to her old ways, I’ll break her fucking back, okay, Heather?”

Heather let out a slight chuckle at Veronica’s comment. “Okay, Veronica. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Heather.”

The phone clicked and went dead. Veronica threw the phone back onto the receiver before rubbing her face with her hands. Her hand gave her a slight twitch as she sat it down on her thigh.

_ Was it really healthy for her to continue to loathe J- _

Veronica blinked.

_ Of course it was, he nearly killed her. Any vile thoughts she had of her were valid and understandable. He was a loathsome individual who was prone to manipulative tendencies. Every fear and mistrust she had in him was valid. _

_ Then… _

_ Why did she keep wanting to see him? _

“Fuck it.” Veronica whispered softly to herself as she heaved herself off her bed. Hastily shoving on a pair of converse, Veronica snagged a glance at her clock. It was 6:30. Her parents wouldn’t mind her going out for a few hours. She grabbed a coat off the back of her bedroom door, slipping it on as she jogged downstairs. Snagging an apple out of the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter, Veronica opened the front door. She shouted a quick notice about her going out for a quick drive beforing slamming the door shut, closing any and all questions her parents might’ve asked.

Veronica took one bite of the apple before chucking it across the street in hopes of relieving her anger. It didn’t work. Looking at its splattered remains over the asphalt made Veronica feel childish. Her anger had caused a bigger mess than the one she was in before. Veronica turned her head away from the heap of apple remains and entered her car. She ignited the engine and booked it out of her neighborhood, letting the numbness that came with driving wash over her.

. . . 

Opened quickly, slammed shut. JD didn’t even need to open his eyes to know who was visiting him. 

“Veronica.” It was more of a statement than a question. He knew it was her. _ Nobody else in this town would bother visiting him _ . Although, with how enraged and infuriated Veronica would get with him, sometimes he wished she never visited at all. He wouldn’t have remembered that she was his girlfriend until sometime later, but that would’ve been better. He could have his own little fantasy about whoever his girlfriend was, and Veronica could loathe him from a distance. It would’ve worked out _ better _, in his opinion, instead of getting trapped in this constant cycle of hatred and self-loathing.

“Jason Dean.” The tone of her voice made his stomach twist horrendously. _ There was no way this night was going to end well, was there? _ Maintaining eye contact, Veronica walked to her usual perch. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and placed her hands neatly on top. “I had a conversation with someone today,”

JD’s eyes widened slightly in response to Veronica actually bothering say something that wasn’t a, “Fuck you,” or a “Fuck off,”. It was relieving. It felt like a white flag had been raised, and the battle was finally over. _ But the ending of a battle is never the end of a war. _

“You probably don’t remember this,” Veronica muttered to herself, a look of slight frustration painted across her face. “Does Heather McNamara ring a bell?”

JD pursued his lips. _ McNamara. _ It sounded so, so familiar. It reminded him of a yellow field of flowers or childhood innocence. It certainly wasn’t the last name JD associated with one of the Heathers. After all, all he remembered of the trio of Heathers was that they were mega-bitches. Nothing redeemable. Powerful. In charge. He certainly wouldn’t associate a name like _ McNamara _ . _ McNamara _ was a puppy dog name, not a name of someone who belonged to a powerful regime. 

“Vaguely.”

“Okay, well, that’s not really important,” JD fought the urge to roll his eyes. _ What was the point of asking him if he remembered then? _ His lips curved upwards to form a tiny smirk. “During lunch today, I went outside to smoke and was followed by Heather,”

Veronica palmed her forehead before inhaling sharply. “_ Duke. _ Heather _ Duke _ followed me outside.” Meekly, she peered at him. He stared back with a curious and mildly bewildered face.

_ “How many are there?” _ JD said it in a joking manner, but it was half a genuine question.

Veronica let the corners of her mouth perk up into a tiny grin before covering it with her hand subconsciously. She rolled her eyes and felt her back slump into a more relaxed posture. “Yeah, I was like that once upon a time too,” Veronica scoffed at herself. “And now their names are all I know, blah blah blah, Heather this, blah blah blah Heather that,” She waved her hands in the air in an attempt to emphasize her point. She shook her head, flicked her hands and set them back down on her lap.

Peering at JD’s face, his bewilderment and confusion stuck in place, she smirked. “There are three.” Veronica’s smirk immediately faded and a pit in her stomach opened itself up, making her gut twist horrendously. Her eyes swelled and her cheeks turned themselves into a light red as she choked back a sob. “Well, two, Heather Chandler is dead.” Inhaling sharply, Veronica focused on her hands. Her hands would keep her grounded to reality. Afterall, she did everything with her hands; writing, drawing, holding, carrying, opening, they were apart of her, and not a part she could erase. _ Sure, her hands _ ** _killed_ ** _ Heather Chandler, but she couldn’t erase them. _ They were still _ apart _ of her, no matter how hard she wanted to efface. And yet, despite trying desperately to stay grounded to reality, to keep a hold of some sort of grip on realism, her hands and surroundings faded to black and _ her _voice echoed around her.

_ “Veronica.” _

_ There it was. The haunting dominance and superiority that easily conveyed itself even through a tiny whisper. _

_ “Veronicaaa.” _

_ The darkness was cold. Freezing, actually. It enveloped Veronica and swallowed her body whole. It felt as if she had been dumped into ice cold water, left to struggle for quick gasps of air or slip under, succumb to the chilling water, and let her lungs swell until her existence would be no more. _

_ “Veronica!” _

_ The voice was getting louder. It would only get louder. Like when Veronica thought Heather couldn’t get any crueler until the party. When Heather shouted, screamed, screeched at the top of her lungs that she would destroy Veronica. It was like the demon within Heather had fully manifested in her heart; that an exorcism wouldn’t even expel such an evil from heart. That only death could end the nightmare that was Heather Chandler. _

_ “Veronica..?” _

_ And yet, Heather wasn’t a demon. Heather wasn’t a beast. Heather was horrible, sure, terrible, miserable, an absolute bitch, but she didn’t deserve to die. Nobody deserved to die for personas they put on for crowds. _

_ “Veronica.” _

_ Heather’s tears streamed down her face, splashing onto Veronica’s hands. Veronica cupped Heather’s face and brought her closer. Words bubbling out, slipping out in mumbles and soft bursts. Fears trickling out of her mouth, insecurities of being alone, being used. Fears of exposing her feelings inside. _

_ “Veronica.” _

_ Blue liquid. White cups. Red scunchie. She swiftly drank from the cup. Anticipation hanging in the air. Veronica’s lips softly parted, waiting for the opportunity to laugh. JD’s face was monotone, with a splash of fear in his eyes. She drank. _

_ She dropped the cup. _

_ She choked. _

_ She fell. _

_ Her body twitched on the floor before giving out its last breath; drain cleaner trickling out of her mouth, staining the red carpet a dark shade of purple. The life from her eyes faded. Her hand eternally open; red scunchie stuck on her wrist, as if, even in death, she wouldn’t relinquish her power. _

_ “Veronica!” _

Hands. _ Hands. _ ** _Hands!_ **

Veronica blinked and her surroundings faded back in. Bright, shining colors. The warmth hit her skin and she closed her hands. She inhaled sharply before gazing back up. 

Her cheeks burned, tears softly rolling down them and splashing onto Veronica’s body. Her breaths came shallow at first, her lungs desperate for any sort of oxygen provided. Slowly, she took deeper and longer breaths, calming her pulse and hoping to achieve some sort of zen.

“_Veronica?” _

Her eyes never moved faster, her gaze was never more penetrating, blazing, throwing daggers into JD’s soul. There wasn’t even a distinct emotion that displayed itself on her face. It was void; _ empty _ , like Veronica had left and _ something else _ had taken her place. If JD was being honest, he would’ve preferred to have the Veronica that threw “Fuck you” around like it was the only thing she knew how to say, the one that loathed and openly despised his existence. Because sitting across from this, a person with no expression, glaring into your soul, felt more terrifying than anything he had ever experienced.

She raised a shaking finger and pointed it at him.

_ “You killed her.” _

His stomach twisted and turned. His heart started to rapidly pound. Thoughts started to bounce around his skull, slashing into his conscious and reminding him quietly; _ He was still a murderer. _

Her hand dropped and her entire frame started to shake. Tears poured profusely out of her eyes and her breathing became shallow once more. _ He poured the drain cleaner, _ ** _but Veronica gave her the cup._ **

JD wasn’t the only one who killed Heather Chandler.

_ JD wasn’t the only one who killed Heather Chandler. _

** _JD wasn’t the only one who killed Heather Chandler._ **

The words bundled together in her throat. Choking her words. Her panic had wrapped itself around her so finely that she was frozen in place. Tears streamed out of her eyes and down her cheeks at a rate faster than ever. Her throat burned, her cheeks swelled, her chest pounded, and her head felt light.

“_We,” _Veronica choked out the first word. It was wispy and almost inaudible. JD could hardly hear what she had said.

“_We,” _ Veronica tried again, the only part of her body not frozen being her voice, waiting for lulls in her sobbing to speak. “ _ We killed Heather Chandler.” _

JD’s lips parted almost immediately, ready to bark out a defense for her, but his reply died halfway up his throat and his words clogged his voice.

“_Veronica, _” He managed to choke out. Reverting her eyes to the floor and lowering her hand back into her lap, she took another breath.

“_Veronica, _ ” JD tried again. Her eyes flickered back to him. Analyzing, waiting patiently. They lacked a certain emotion to them, full of nothing but numbness and sorrow. It felt odd, coming from Veronica, whom so far had only spewed anger and hate, rather than insecurity and fear. “It’s not _ your _ fault, I poured the drain cleaner, I lied about which cup you had, I,” JD sighed, struggling to raise a hand to wipe his face. “ _ It’s not your fault.” _

Slowly, Veronica’s body started to return to form. Heat warmed her skin, her panic started to recede and her lungs gasped and filled with the air that it had been deprived. She used her hand to smother her tears off her face. She sniffled slightly and cracked her neck. She eyed the floor, thinking silently to herself before nodding.

_ “Thank you.” _

It was quiet, almost like she was ashamed to say it. She didn’t even bother to make contact with JD as she said it. It hung in the air for a few moments, as if Veronica awaited for a reply. JD didn’t know how to respond. The two words were echoing in his mind. Any response he could’ve had wouldn’t have been what she wanted, anyway.

Veronica leaned back into the chair and crossed her legs. “Anyways, Heather followed me outside, I tried to tell her to fuck off but she,” Veronica paused for a moment to chuckle. “_ She saw through my facade _. So, I decided to hear her out and shit, and when we got down to the bone of it, she told me she wanted another chance.” 

“Uhm,” JD mumbled. Veronica peered inquisitively, one eyebrow poised above the other. “Another chance at what, exactly?”

Veronica shrugged. “Life,” Another shrug. “Friendship,” Another shrug. “_Redemption, _ most likely.” Veronica’s eyes flickered to the floor. “She’s done a lot of horrible things.” Veronica smirked to herself, rubbing her eyes before haphazardly pointing at JD. “She’s like you, in that way.” _ You also want redemption. _ Veronica didn’t say those words, but the implications were heavy. The thought stuck in the air and quickly swelled into JD’s mind. 

_ She thought he wanted redemption? She wasn’t wrong, he did, but he was so confused, was that a good or bad thing? She seemed to have willingly forgiven Heather. Was there a possibility she woul- No. That would be nonsensical. Whatever Heather did was probably nowhere near as close as _ ** _murdering three of Veronica’s friends._ **

The thought still burrowed itself deep into his mind, fabricating a sort of false hope, of which he wanted to brush off, but couldn’t.

“You know, talking to her made me realize, I’m,” Veronica took a moment to smile to herself. “_ I’m so tired of being angry. _” Veronica’s eyes reflected some sort of peace. They were glossy, threatening to spill at almost any moment, but gave what she said sincerity, a sort of way to show how tired and worn-out she truly was. “I,” Veronica sighed and leaned forward, masking her face with her hands. “Truth is, JD, I don’t really want to be mad at you.” She gave herself a moment to laugh breathlessly. “You,” Veronica nodded, biting her lip pensively. 

Shaking her head, Veronica uncrossed her legs and stood up. JD watched her apprehensively, waiting for her to walk out and slam the door, to leave him in silence and solitude until her next visit. To his surprise, she walked over to his side of the bed. Wordlessly, she stuck out her hand.

Smiling out of confusion, JD forced his hand up and into Veronica’s grasp. Her hand was warm and soft. It vaguely reminded him of the dates they had, or the times they spent, running through fields, holding hands and making endless promises to never leave or hurt one another. Internally, he winced. _ He didn’t really live up to any of those promises, did he? _

Softly, out of knowledge that JD’s body couldn’t handle a lot of stress, Veronica shook it.

_ “Another chance.” _

JD’s heart started to slowly pound faster. The euphoria building in his mind. A warm feeling spreading throughout his chest. A soft smile cracked along his face. _ This was the first time since he awoke that he had felt genuinely happy. _

_ “Another chance.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bros so theres a comic con in February that im going to and you KNOW your boy is going dressed as Heather Chandler
> 
> lmao goodnight guys love you all


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok ok so I'm actually getting my life together so expect more common updates haha

Dusk trickled in softly past dark green drapes. They faded past everything in the room and illuminated the bathroom, shining softly on Heather’s face, which rested on the edge of the toilet bowl. The light lightly laid itself across her face, providing warmth and a slight distraction to Heather’s misery.

It was nice, at first, laying there, letting the sunlight warm her face as it softly effaced the actions she had previously taken. However, the bliss was too soon disturbed by her phone ringing.

At first, Heather was confused. Was she dreaming? Were her dreams this bland and realistic? Had her brain memorized her phone’s obnoxious ring pattern, four beeps followed by 1, repeat ad infinitum? It only hit her after the fourth ring where she was. Snapping her eyes open, Heather shoved herself away from the toilet bowl and into a wall, groaning loudly as her back flared with pain. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Muttering to herself, she hastily stumbled to her feet, nearly collapsing after she had come to a full standing. She crumbled into her bathroom’s countertop and smashed her forehead into its cold marble. She took a moment to breathe. The ringing stopped. Heather sighed, praying silently that whoever had called left a voicemail. Taking a moment to stabilize herself, Heather pushed herself off the countertop. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. It had been of her own consideration and Heather’s advice to get a smaller mirror, after all, smaller mirror means less you can see, and the less you can see the less you have to worry about.

Heather shook her head. It didn’t matter the size of the mirror. Nothing could erase the fact that she fucking hated herself. 

Moving forward, Heather splashed water onto her face and quickly flushed the remains of her lunch down the toilet. Turning off the lights and slamming her bathroom door shut. Heather had just flopped down onto her bed when the phone started to ring again.

Heather struggled to reach it without actually getting up and moving. She reached and reached, wiggling her body closer inch by inch. In the end, Heather just let out a massive sigh and stood up, picking up the receiver to hear whoever had called her.

“Hello?”

“Heather?”

Heather nearly dropped the phone. Her heart dropped into her stomach and came close to making her vomit once again. Sweat immediately started to protrude out of every orifice it could. Her mind raced with things to say.  _ Should she start off with an apology or beg for forgiveness? Should she play things casual or be confrontational? Did Veronica tell Heather to call her or was Heather doing this out of her own volition? Probably the former. Heather made an immediate mental note to thank Veronica later. _

Despite all the words in Heather’s mind, apologies she had rehearsed in the mirror countless times,  _ eulogies of sorries and ‘please forgive me’, all she could muster was a simple, _

“Hey.”

“How are you?”

Heather smirked to herself. There was a lecture full of things that were wrong in her life. So much so that Heather was sure she could write a full length novel if her pain actually turned interesting or inspiring. Frowning to herself, Heather hit a silent realization.  _ Heather probably didn’t care how she felt. _

“I’m fine, why?”

“No reason.”

Silence. Pure, uninterrupted silence. It wasn’t the comfortable type either. It was blaring, loud, full of uncertainty that with any given moment something could be said or done. Heather formed the words of one of her apologies in her mind.

“Hey He-”

“Is it alright if I come over?”

Heather blinked. Quickly, she pinched herself to make absolutely sure what she had heard wasn’t some sort of daydream; that she wasn’t still sleeping softly, head poised on the rim of the bowl while her body slumped itself against its body. Her arm flinched minorly at the pain;  _ this was no dream. _

“What?” It was more of a statement than a question; Heather had heard her perfectly, loud and clear,  _ she just wanted to make sure Heather was being genuine. _

“Can I come over to your house?”

Heather blinked.

“Like,  _ right now?” _

“Yes.”

“Uhm, give me a second,” Heather paused, covering the receiver with her hand to assure any noise wouldn’t get through. Looking around her room, Heather was stunned by how disgusting it was. There were clothes piled up in almost every corner of the room. Everything that had a surface in her room was either covered with papers or dirty dishes. Her carpet had five different stains all from different beverages. Wincing internally, Heather glanced at her shut bathroom door. She shivered.  _ She didn’t want to even think about how revolting it was in there. _

“No, y-” Heather choked on her words. Internally, she cursed herself for being this nervous. “No.”

“Can you come here then?”

“Like, to your house?”

“Where else?” Heather’s heart winced.  _ Sarcasm. When on Earth did Heather turn sarcastic? _

“Okay, I’ll be over in a bit.” Heather slammed the phone down on the receiver

Heather stood up quickly, and almost fell back down. Her vision blurred and her head swelled. Stumbling, she leaned against the wall for support and waited for her dizziness to pass. Once it did, Heather arched her back and cracked her neck. To say she wasn’t excited would be a lie; she was finally going to atone for the things she had done.

Granted, this excitement came with anxiety, anxieties large enough to consume all of the excitement and leave Heather nothing but a nervous mess. Heather tried to quell these anxieties, after all,  _ Heather was a very forgiving person, right? _

_ She hoped. _

. . .

To say that Veronica felt better after somewhat amending things with JD would be a lie, but a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was quite difficult, if close to impossible, to describe exactly how she felt. Granted, Veronica never had an easy time expressing her emotions healthily. Always, always,  _ always _ bottling things up and suppressing her anger, always suppressing her beliefs and doubts in hopes of fitting in, of conforming. 

It always ended up the same. It would blow up in her face. Something would set her off and she would get irrationally angry, yelling at friends, hurling insults at her family, and taking the blame out on herself. And then, once the rage faded away, her mind realizing how awful it was to be angry, would she realize the damage she did cause. The friendships she had nearly severed and the family she had shoved away. The mental wounds she had reopened and the guilt she loathed experiencing would haunt her, plague her mind, screaming and screeching that she was a horrible person.

Blowing out a cloud of smoke and letting it surround her, filling her lungs with more carcinogens than it already had, she felt some sort of calm fill her.  _ Sure,  _ JD was  _ still a murderer _ and  _ sure _ , Veronica was  _ still very traumatized by his actions,  _ but it felt relieving to let her anger go, even if it was just momentarily. To smack the demon that was nibbling off of her rage away. Despite feeling temporary euphoria from the hope of making a decision that could cause change,  _ in the back of her mind, she knew her rage would return.  _

Out of frustration and the impending doom over everything in her life falling apart, Veronica let out a scream and jabbed the lit cigarette to the back of her left hand. Her screams of anger almost instantly turned into screams of pain. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes and her hand pulsed with a fiery intensity. Skin seared and muscle twitched. Veronica continued to press the cigarette deeper and deeper into her skin, screaming with every millimeter it went deeper.

The pain flared, making her hand feel like it was on fire. Freaking, Veronica dropped the cigarette onto the floorboard of her car. 

She sucked in air through shallow breaths as she felt her hand slowly prick and burn. Frustrated, she used her right hand to ignite the engine for her car and aided her other hand on top of the steering wheel. She stomped out the semi-lit cigarette on her floor and floored it out of the hospital, formulating an excuse in her mind for her charred hand.

. . . 

Heather sucked in her stomach as she trotted up the steps to Heather’s mansion. It loomed over her, casting shadows over anything it touched and adding a foreboding element to its appearance. Had it not been for Heather practically hating Heather, Heather wouldn’t have found the mansion as terrifying as she did. Many times, this place was her secondary home, a place she would lounge around at and release her emotions. But today, she wasn’t going for comfort.  _ Maybe that’s why she found it so unnerving. _

The door was a duller yellow than Heather remembered it.  _ Did they repaint it over the summer? _ Heather wondered but would never know, after all,  _ her and Heather weren’t exactly friends anymore. _

Sighing softly and gulping down her anxiety, Heather wrapped her hand around the brass knocker, shivering at how the coldness slowly numbed her hand. She lifted it up, and then down. Immediately afterward, Heather yanked her hand away, shoving it inside her sleeve. One knock probably wasn’t enough to alert Heather, afterall, she lived in a  _ mansion _ . Mansions had numerous rooms and this one went up four stories easily, it possibly could’ve been that Heather was in her room and didn’t hear it.

Heather reached out the knock once more when the door flung open.

“Heather.” Heather’s voice was monotone, her eyes a duller blue than Heather remembered, and her body was more slouched than it normally was. She didn’t necessarily showcase any emotion on her face; it was peculiar sort of blank. One type of blank that Heather hadn’t seen before.

Heather had on a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. An- _ wait a minute, when on Earth did Heather start wearing black?  _ It didn’t look bad on her, per say, Heather could wear literally  _ anything  _ and pull it off, it was just off-putting to Heather. Heather, as far as Heather knew, almost always wore yellow, whether it was an accessory or her entire outfit, dark and muddy shades, or ones so bright they could’ve been neon; Heather always dressed in yellow.

Was this another thing Heather had caused? Was Heather so traumatized by her actions that she stopped loving yellow? 

It was an absurd thought. Heather still loved yellow, she wore it to school constantly, and around Veronica and Martha.  _ She just didn’t want to wear it in front of Heather. _

“Heather,” Heather nodded in response. Heather turned around and beckoned for her to follow her. Heather stepped inside and shut the door, reveling in the almost instant warmth Heather’s house provided. She took a moment to gaze at her surroundings. The interior didn’t seem too different from when she had been there last, granted some tables were moved and vases replaced, all in all, it still looked the same.

_ But it wasn’t. Nothing would be the same around Heather ever again. _

Following behind closely, Heather led Heather up a winding staircase and down two hallways, through, at least, three doors, and into a blinding yellow room.

Heather was kind of astonished at how yellow it was. Her room itself was extremely green, from the drapes to the wallpaper to the carpet, but she still had things in her room that varied in color; Heather’s room, in contrast, was  _ entirely yellow. _

Yellow wallpaper, yellow carpet, yellow comforter, yellow bedspread, yellow desk,  _ Hell, Heather was certain to an extent that the windows were yellow tinted. _

Sighing softly, Heather let herself flop onto the bed. Reaching over to the desk that sat at the end of her bed, Heather grabbed herself a magazine and started reading it. Her eyes locked with Heather’s, who was giving her a look filled with nothing but pure anxiety. She chuckled and sat the magazine down on her chest.

“Go ahead, make yourself at home.” She waved her arms around, vaguely motioning towards different surfaces, but eventually ended up pointing at a light yellow desk chair. 

Nodding, Heather pulled the desk away from the chair and closer to the bed. Collapsing into it, she nearly screamed as a magazine was thrown in her face. She managed to catch it before it hit the floor. A soft rip could be heard as the flimsy paper nearly tore itself out of Heather’s grasp.

“I saw that a few weeks ago and I thought of you,” Heather looked at the page. It was a model posing with a green dress on. The dress was a gradient, going from dark green at the top down to almost lime green at the bottom. It was strapless and form fitting. Heather admired it on the model, but in all honesty, she would probably have hated it on herself. 

“Of course, thinking about you made me mad so I threw that ‘zine away.” Heather’s eyes welled with tears as she thumbed over the dress. Solemnly, she nodded. 

“And then Veronica called me and uh, I decided I would try to not be so angry at you, so I pulled it out of the trash, I know you,” Heather choked on her words for a moment, trying to think of what to say. “ _ Used _ to like green so,” Heather fiddled with her thumbs for a moment before grabbing another magazine off her bedside desk.

“I still like green.”

“You do?” Heather’s eyes locked with Heather’s. Bright blue gazing into dark brown, laced with curiosity of what she had missed. Heather pulled herself closer to the end of her bed,  _ closer to Heather.  _ “I thought your favorite color was red.”

Heather couldn’t help it, she let out a small laugh. Heather, in response, chuckled along. “No, no,” She shook her head. “Red is,” She shrugged. “It’s not my color. It’s powerful though,” They both nodded in agreement. “I guess that’s why Heather always pulled it off better than us.” Heather grabbed a pillow from behind her and squeezed it.

“Speaking of Heather,” Heather chuckled softly, “I never told you this because I was afraid you’d get mad, but sometimes she’d let me call her Chan-Chan.”

Heather stared at heather in disbelief. A small smile crept up Heather’s face and placed itself upon her lips. Crossing her arms, she watched as Heather burst out laughing, flopping backwards onto the bed and letting the pillow fall out of her lap.

“I knew it, fuck you! You’re totally bullshitting me!” Picking up the zine in her lap, she tossed it at Heather, who swatted it away before it hit her face. It landed on the edge of the bed, haphazardly promising to fall off at any given moment. 

Shaking her head, Heather leaned forward. Grabbing the zine, she threw it back onto the desk before turning her attention back to Heather. “I’m serious, she called me Macaroni and in return, I called her Chan-Chan,” Heather shook her head. “Never in public, of course, and never around you.”

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

Silence. Heather felt as if her sarcasm had killed any potential conversation Heather had. She sincerely hoped not, it had not been her intention to jerk Heather off, she just  _ really didn’t want to hear about how Heather hated her. _

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, Heather?” Heather gave her a tired stare, leaning forward in the chair and placing her face into her hands. “I was the one who went power crazy and followed in Heather’s footsteps, I was the one who made fun of your problems, you have  _ nothing  _ to be sorry for.”

“You don’t know that.” 

Heather glanced at Heather through her fingers. It was difficult to see what emotion was splashed across her face, but Heather was too tired to lift her head. Shaking her head, she laughed. 

“What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?”

“You’re not the only person who’s done bad things, Heather, I was part of a lot of cruel things, like the prank on Martha, and leaving Veronica in the park, an-”

“You never did any of those by choice!” Heather ripped her face out of her hands. Her eyes instantly locked with Heather’s. It took everything she had to tear them away. “You were forced into everything, by Heather or by me, it’s not your fault.”

Heather’s face morphed from confusion to a small grin. The smirk crept up the corner of her lips and painted its way across her face. Laughter bubbled in her throat and she softly let out a hearty chuckle. Heather stared at her in confusion.

“You really have changed, haven’t you?” She wiped the formation of a tear out of the corner of her eye. Slowly, Heather started to smile as well. Leaning back into the chair, she felt her posture become more relaxed and smooth. “I gotta give Veronica more credit, she knows things.”

Heather nodded, grin still plastered on her face. Veronica was, to almost everybody, a deep pit of advice and wisdom. Granted, her advice ranged from extremely unhelpful to Socrates-level wisdom. Despite Veronica giving everyone advice, no matter what type of situation she was in, nobody could ever seem to advise her on what to do. Granted, her situation was a lot more complicated than petty high school drama, after all,  _ her boyfriend fucking killed people in front of her _ . No amount of high school drama would ever provide enough insight to help with the calamity of a situation like that.

Heather and Heather shared a few more laughs and nods before collective silence blanketed the both of them. Heather slumped backwards onto her bed. She shifted her arms to prop up her head so she could still glance at Heather. Heather, meanwhile, was playing an intense game of avoiding eye contact. Her eyes darted around the room at almost anything and everything, somehow, just barely, avoiding meeting Heather’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Heather. For everything.” Heather blinked for one second. Gazing pensively at Heather, she shrugged. It was never her goal to stay eternally mad at Heather, she just didn’t trust her.  _ She didn’t want to trust her. She didn’t want to go through that same pain all over again.  _ But seeing Heather, all tensed up, frigid, anxiety lining her eyes, all apologetic and remorseful for what she did, it made Heather yearn for something.

She had felt this feeling before, back when she and Heather were still friends. It would pop up at the most inconvenient times, usually when they were lounging around, sharing their deepest thoughts with one another. Heather didn’t particularly like it; it made her feel weird and warm. For the most part, she just shrugged it off and moved on. When her and Heather stopped being friends, the feeling died entirely. It was gone. Which made Heather feel sad and happy at the same time.  _ Why did she only feel this way around Heather? _

Having Heather back in her room, lounging around, sharing her insecurities with her brought her back. If it wasn’t for what had happened so far, Heather would’ve sworn she was back in her Sophomore year of high school, listening to Heather vent about how she wanted to have the 'perfect body’. It felt weirdly surreal, her heart panged slightly with that foreign feeling and she pulled herself upwards and crawled towards the end of her bed.

Reaching out, she grabbed Heather’s hand and pulled it into her lap. Quickly, she scanned her eyes over it, noting the open welts on her knuckles. Softly and delicately, she intertwined Heather’s fingers with her own before gazing at Heather and smiling gently. “It’s okay, I forgive you.”

Heather couldn’t help it, tears slipping out of her eyes, she leapt forward and threw herself onto Heather. Grabbing her and pulling her tightly into a hug. Heather giggled loudly as the force of Heather jumping onto her knocked both of them back onto her bed. Heather wrapped her arms around Heather’s shoulders and pulled her closer to her. The last time she and Heather had hugged like this was before Senior year had even started. It felt so wonderful to have her back in her arms, to have her friend come back from the dark side.

They laid there like that for a few moments, enjoying the warmth that came from each other and the joy of just being friends again. Heather pressed her nose into Heather’s neck and sighed.  _ Just a hopeless crush, right? _

Feeling Heather’s hot breath against her neck, Heather’s face flushed slightly. Hopelessly, she shoved it off and eyed the magazine that Heather had thrown onto her bed. She snatched it off the edge and gazed at the picture of the dress. “So, do you want this dress or not?”

. . .

Veronica’s parents were, strangely gullible, to say the absolute least. They would fight her tooth and nail if they  _ thought _ she was doing something self-destructive, but the moment she did actually engage in self-destructive habits, they were strangely silent.

Walking through the front door, she pulled her sleeve down across her hand and tried to creep through the kitchen to the staircase. If she could just get up those stairs, it was an unspoken rule that she was to be left alone. However,  _ when did anything ever go right in the life of Veronica Sawyer? _

“Hey sweetie, where have you been?”

She froze. Her mother’s voice came from behind her. Slowly, she turned around and gave her mother a half-ass grin.

“Nowhere in particular.” Veronica worked harder to make her grin seem more realistic and less fake. Hastily, she clasped her hand together and stored them behind her back.

“Aw, come on, you can tell me anything!” 

Veronica let out a breathy chuckle. “Mom, I’m seriously tired, can I please just go to sleep?”

“Alright, but just don’t let me find you up misbehaving!” She gave Veronica a sly wink and a coy smile. It had become a joke between her parents that Veronica was now a delinquent kid due to her ragged style and drastically different personality. The comments actually hurt Veronica more than she let on. She kept justifying it to herself, afterall, they basically lost their daughter,  _ they had a right to cope too. _

She walked into her bedroom, slammed the door shut, collapsed onto her bed, and curled up next to her pillow. Veronica just laid there, motionless, unwavering; void of thought and emotion. It was horrible. Veronica longed to feel something,  _ anything _ . Then, of course, she thought about how angry she was. And then, suddenly, being numb didn’t seem so bad. Absentmindedly, Veronica started to pick at the newly formed scab on her hand. 

And then, it was morning. Her body slammed the alarm clock off and pulled her off of her pillow. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to shake the sleep from them. Sighing, she stood up and headed downstairs. Grabbing a piece of fruit from the counter, she opened the front door and slammed it shut. 

Once she was outside, the air blowing rapidly and the temperature almost freezing her in place, did it occur to her just how  _ awful  _ she appeared. Not having a mirror in front of her made it harder to fathom just how mangy she looked, but from the foul taste in her mouth, her inability to fully run her hands through her hair, and the stains on her shirt, she could guess on just  _ how  _ shitty she appeared.

Sighing softly, she took a bite out of her apple before getting into her car.  _ Today was going to be a long day. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have laid out a schedule/plan for myself to write a least 500 words for this story a day because I want to see if I can have this finished by May maybe and also to not have this story update monthly because that kinda sucks
> 
> but anyways, if you've kept reading despite my shitty updating i appreciate you more than you could ever know
> 
> ily all, gn <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D

Veronica arrived at Westerburg earlier than usual. She dashed up the stairs, wrapped her hand around the handle, and yanked back only for the door to loudly rattle and firmly stay in place. Blinking, she released her grip on the door.  _ Just how early was she?  _ Turning around, she observed the empty parking lot, barren except for her car, parked directly in the center of it. 

“Huh.” Veronica nodded to herself. Feeling rather stupid, she walked back to her car and got into it, cranking up the heat and letting it wash over her. Looking at her car’s clock, she realized just how early she was.  _ There was still an hour before Westerburg opened. _

Veronica nodded upon this realization. Leaning back in her seat, she laid her arms on top of each other.  _ If she had time to kill, she might’ve well spent it getting her life together _ .

Closing her eyes, her mind started to race with thoughts. Nightmares and fears that were normally stored away in the back of her mind, the deepest of her subconscious, kept under lock and key to ensure Veronica remained  _ sane _ suddenly loomed large. Heather’s voice, although wispy and quiet, threatening to slip away with wind, softly repeated the same message over and over;  _ she had no idea what she was getting herself into. _

Her mind started to get louder and louder, with each thought, fear, insecurity, and doubt slamming into her very being. Heather’s voice was no longer soft and quiet, it was now a loud, screeching noise, repeating the state that ultimately, Veronica was not in control. Everything blared in her mind until all the voices turned into one collective, repetitive beeping sound. Her body felt as if it fell backwards through the car seat, and when she opened her eyes…

“ _ No,” Veronica softly whispered to herself, the red glow of the boilers, the grey, chipped paint, the soft chuckles JD was giving to himself as he adjusted his bomb. She was back in the fucking boiler room.  _

_ Her heart pounded with an intensity, her stomach churned as if she had just drank pure acid, and her lungs struggled to pull in air through choppy, gasped breaths. Her body moved on its own, shuffling it’s way around the corner to confront JD. Veronica couldn’t even hear her voice over the pure adrenaline running through her veins. JD’s head snapped to her and fixed his eyes into hers, staring deep into her soul. She tried to give him the same petrifying stare back, but there was no soul to stare into, just pure blackness.  _

_ “You know you can’t stop me, right? I won’t let you stop me this time.”  _

_ No. _

_ NO. _

** _NO._ **

_ He reached into his trenchcoat faster than Veronica could blink. Whipping out his pistol, he smiled before aiming it at his head and pulling the trigger. The bullet fired through his skull and landed into the bomb, glitching it out and ultimately breaking it. She watched as his body slumped to the floor, blood pouring all over. Her body fell to its knees next to his. Her arms reached out and grabbed the collar of his trenchcoat, trying desperately to shake him awake. Just shaking upon shaking upon shaking, as if, by some miracle, he would sit up, smile, laugh, and tell her it was all a joke. _

_ The punchline never came. _

_ The boilers started to release a terrible, booming sound, coming in waves of threes, then fours, and fives. Something in the room kept repeating her name, over and over, getting louder with each syllable pronounced. _

_ She continued to shake his body, hoping his corpse would reanimate. _

_ It never did. _

_ “Veronica!” _

Loud pitched screaming was the first thing Veronica registered when she awoke. At first, she was unaware of where it came from, until she realized  _ she  _ was the one screaming. Jerking back into her car seat, she panted and gasped for air, clawing at her throat in a desperate attempt to get air down it.

A knock came from her window. Veronica glanced at it. She could barely make out of the muddled forms of Heather and Heather. The temperature inside her car was sweltering, and it only kept getting worse. Veronica swore she was going to die in here if she didn’t get out.    
Tearing one of her hands away from her throat, she clawed for the car lock, jabbing it open and ripping open the car door. Tumbling out onto the pavement, feeling the cool winter air instantly freeze her skin. Her lungs took in large gulps of air as she scrambled to reach for something, anything to support herself. Someone wrapped their arms around her and pulled them close to her. She clawed desperately for them to get off. All she needed was air, not touching and reassurance.

Once her breathing was once again stabilized, she took a moment to gander at her surroundings. Heather was on her knees in front of her, worry and concern plastered all over her face. Her hands were seemingly frozen in front of her; half outstretched to Veronica. Her yellow blazer and black skirt had rocks and dirt all over them from being on the ground. 

Looking up, Veronica could see the extremely worried face of Heather, arms crossed, green blazer wrapped tightly around her form, her lip bit pensively in a way of keeping her cool.

Looking around her, Veronica could see the concerned faces of classmates everywhere. Some of them had stopped, dead in their tracks, to observe Veronica’s breakdown. Others merely gave her a confused look as they walked into Westerburg.

Veronica rose a shaking finger. “I’m fine.” Her voice quivered. Heather frowned, reaching her hand out and wrapping it around Veronica’s wrist. She pulled Veronica’s wrist close to her, stroking it softly while maintaining eye contact with her.

Slowly, she shook her head. “No, Veronica, you’re not, and that’s okay.”

“No, you-” Veronica ripped her hand out of Heather’s grasp. Her anger rose and surrounded her body with a layer of heat. “You fucking listen to me for once,” Heather’s eyes nearly started to well with tears. Veronica’s anger immediately died upon seeing this.  _ Another fucking mistake that her anger had caused. “ _ I’m sorry, I’m just having a rough morning.”

“Veronica, screaming in your car because you had a nightmare is a little more than a ‘rough’ morning.” Veronica glanced up to stare at Heather. Heather’s face had a way of being strangely monotone while also showing emotion. It was weird seeing her look so concerned but also like she didn’t care at all.

“Yeah, well,” Veronica shrugged. Reaching behind her, she gripped onto her car’s door and used it to help herself up. Her legs were wobbly and her arms weak, but she managed to stand up without falling back down. Reaching into the car, she ripped the keys from the ignition, turning it off. Slamming the car door shut, she turned to face both the Heathers. “Can we just go to class? Therapy session later?” Heather gave out a small chuckle that she immediately muted with her hand. Heather flashed her a death stare. Veronica smirked, before Heather was a bitch, she had a thing for dark humor.

They walked into Westerburg, Heather behind her, making sure at every moment that Veronica wasn’t going to collapse or fall down or tear apart. Granted, it was annoying in the parking lot, but useful when she nearly collapsed on the tenth stair. Heather pushed her arms against Veronica’s back and kept her sturdy while Heather walked onwards.  _ Heather might’ve changed, but she still didn’t know how to properly care, did she? _

Walking into the school, Veronica made a pit stop by her locker and leaned against it. Not daring to open it in front of Heather, lest Heather see her cigarettes and freak out, crying and begging Veronica to seek help and to talk to her. No, she simply told Heather to go find Martha (which was a trick question, as Martha almost never arrived at school early or on time) and opted to converse with Heather.

“So,” Heather’s eyes met with hers. “I’m guessing you two are back on track?”

“As back on track as a derailed train can get.”

Veronica let out a breathy chuckle. 

“I never got the chance to thank you, so,  _ thank you.” _

Veronica rolled her eyes.  _ Thank you _ . It was so pointless. It made Veronica seem anointed, more special and integral than she actually was. She didn’t particularly do anything;  _ it all came from Heather changing. “ _ Don’t thank me, I didn’t do shit,” She pressed a finger into Heather’s chest. “You were the one that fixed all this.” 

Veronica retracted her arm and Heather blinked. She knew exactly what Veronica was saying, but it still didn’t sit right with her. Afterall, Veronica had been the first person who believed, who  _ knew _ , she had changed. “Sure, whatever.”

Veronica smirked at her comment before twisting her body around so her entire body weight rested against the locker. “So, how have you been holding up?” Heather cocked an eyebrow. “You know?” Veronica motioned her finger towards her mouth.

_ Oh. Great. This topic.  _ Heather screamed internally and her mind verged on the edge of breaking down, collapsing in front of Veronica and lamenting that every single day was a struggle. Every meal was a war with her mind. Her body was a war zone, and that she was fighting a losing war. Despite all of her internal baggage, she simply shrugged. “It’s been tough, but I’ll survive it.”

“Don’t be so stubborn, just because you think you’ve handled worse doesn’t mean you have to be suffering.” 

Heather’s heart skipped a beat. It was as if, somehow, Veronica had seen through all of her lies and facades. As if she had manifested a spear and thrown it right at the epicenter of Heather’s suffering. It almost made Heather feel anxious. Were her flaws that noticeable? Was everyone able to see that she was suffering internally? She didn’t like the thought of it. She didn’t want her problems to be on display, she was a Heather, and Heathers were perfect.

_ Well, they seemed to be, at least. _

“Can we stop talking about this now?” Veronica peered at Heather, a confused stare boring into Heather. Shrugging, she nodded and turned to open her locker. She opened it, grabbed her pack of cigarettes, shoved them into her bra, and slammed the locker shut. Heather wanted to comment on how Veronica relapse into smoking could possibly net her another hospitalization (or, at the very least, a freak out from Heather), but decided to keep her mouth shut. Veronica was the most level-headed out of everybody in this school,  _ so obviously she knew what she was doing, right? _

The bell tolled. Heather walked off to class and Heather ran back to Veronica, apologizing breathlessly about how she couldn’t find Martha and was somewhat worried as to where she was. Veronica laughed and told Heather she’d appear soon before walking off to first period.

. . .

The day passed by begrudgingly slow. Each period seemed to drag on longer than the last. All Veronica wanted to do was chill outside and smoke, and her body made sure to remind her of that  _ every five minutes.  _ Subtle ticks, sudden bursts of energy from her limbs, excessive twitching from her fingers. Veronica found it much too hard to write with her fingers twitching every second, so she opted to do nothing, to just sit in class, gazing out the window.

Eventually, fifth period did come, and after twenty minutes of sitting there, fingers twitching and absentminded leg bobbing, the bell rang and her class filtered out, running to the cafeteria to enjoy either eating prison-level food or chatting with their friends. Veronica sat with Heather and Heather for maybe five minutes before pulling her whole ‘I’m going out for a walk, don’t follow me,’ stick. She probably should’ve waited longer. She probably would’ve waited longer if she was actually engaging in any of the conversation Heather and Heather were having. It was great to see that they had mended their problems, passed the peace pipe, and were back to talking similar to how they used to, but it made Veronica feel strangely alienated.

She shrugged off her feelings of alienation as ticks for a smoke. So, she left the lunchroom and went outside. Her heart pounded with each step she took as her brain mentally counted them. Stopping on the tenth one, she let her body practically fall onto the step. Her brain told her not to, but her eyes quickly glanced at the singe marks on the ground. Tears bubbled in the corners of her eyes as she shuffled with her bra to make the cigarettes fall out. Taking one, she placed it into her mouth before wiping her eyes and lighting it.

It was exhilarating, breathing in the carcinogens felt like giving her lungs new air. Of course, this was deathly ironic, as cigarettes ended up being the reason many people couldn’t breath. Still, Veronica found some sort of peace in inhaling the smoke.

It was a couple of minutes before the loneliness hit her. It was a nasty feeling. It crept into her mind and spread itself all over her consciousness, refusing to disappear or be shoved off; it stuck like tar. She tried smoking another cigarette, hoping maybe that it would fill the void.  _ But nothing did. _

And then, the shakes hit. They came in small bursts of two at first, hitting Veronica suddenly and making her drop a half-smoked cigarette out of her hand and onto the pavement. She didn’t bother to reach for it, staring at her hand incredulously. She watched as her hand trembled slightly before her entire arm started to shake. Swiftly, she stood up. Knowing  _ exactly _ what these shakes were being caused by, Veronica darted down the stairs and into the parking lot, shuffling through her pockets and hastily pulling out her keys. Opening the door, she got in, she ignited the engine, turned the heat down, and floored it out of there. 

. . .

Knocking at the door, it briskly being opened and then shut, with soft footsteps towards the counter.

“Hello Veronica.” JD murmured. It was quite soft but he was certain she could hear him. This room was tiny and beyond that, she seemed to know everything about him. His throat was rather scratchy today. He had several therapists test him on his speech to make sure his vocal cords were still fully intact. His vocal cords were fine, but the overuse of them still made his throat quite a bit sore.

“Hey.”

JD peered at her through lidded eyes. He absolutely loved having Veronica around, he wouldn’t lie. Her company, when not aggressive, was rather enjoyable. They would find minuscule things to chat about and make sarcastic remarks at each other. It was great. He loved not being alone all the time. But today? After all his therapies? He simply wanted to be alone. Despite this, he refused to ask Veronica to leave, afterall,  _ if she left he might never see her again. _

“So, today, I arrived at Westerburg like, an hour before it opened, so I decided to chill in my car for a bit before school started and I accidentally fell asleep.”

JD nodded.  _ Where was this going? _

“Now, uhm, I tend to have nightmares about our fight in the boiler room, where you shoot me and blow up the entire school,” JD’s eyes widened slightly. He had vague memories of what happened in the boiler room. He remembered the sweltering heat, the red glow, and the pounding of the boilers, but that was mainly it. Of course, he did remember some tidbits of their fight, mainly them shuffling and scuffling for the gun, him jumping into her to prevent her from moving. Her reaching for something to her left and then a sharp pain in his stomach. Shivering, he tried to shove the memory into the back of his mind.

“But today, something changed, I had the same nightmare, blaring heat, red glow, and all, you getting up and declaring that I couldn’t stop you, but instead of you shooting me, you shot yourself.” Veronica’s throat started to swell and her eyes glistened. “I tried to stop you, but you were quicker than I was, and,” A singular tear streamed down Veronica’s face. Hastily, she wiped it away. “Even after you had died I was still trying to wake you up? I was shaking you, hoping somehow you would come back to life, oh god,” Veronica’s eyes were flooded with tears, she took a moment to wipe them away, but they kept coming out, pouring down her face and revealing her misery to JD. 

Miserably, she placed her forehead into the palm of her hand. Sniffling, crying, whimpering mess that she was. “It was so terrifying.” Her voice came out in a whisper, as if she wanted to keep that last statement more of a thought rather than speak it aloud.

“Veronica,” JD’s voice couldn’t get much louder than a whisper, but Veronica’s head flew up and her eyes met with his. “Are you scared of losing people?”

Veronica almost wanted to laugh at how stupid of a question this was.  _ Of course she was scared of losing people _ . That was part of the reason JD’s “death” hit her so hard. He was her boyfriend, the person she’d promised to spend eternity, the one person who loved her regardless of her association with the Heathers or her flaws. To lose all of that, suddenly, was heart breaking.

Even before JD “died” she was terrified of losing her loved ones. It was a nasty feeling, to lose something so dear and close to her. To have warmth suddenly replaced with cold emptiness.

“Yes.”

“Do you think that dream was trying to tell you something or?” Veronica wasn’t stupid. She quite easily saw what he was implying. Her eyes welled with more tears. _She didn’t want to be afraid of losing JD. She didn’t want to be afraid of losing a monster._ _She didn’t want to be afraid of anything anymore, her feelings, her insecurities, JD, she just wanted to live. _

Shoving her anger into a corner of her mind, reminding herself that JD literally could not do anything, being practically strapped to a bed, she sighed. 

“Yes, I am.”

The corner of JD’s lips threatened to tug up into a smile. He suppressed his facial muscles and nodded slowly with his head.

“Me too.” 

Veronica glanced at him. She didn’t know whether to take this as a compliment or a creepy comment. She still viewed JD as a threat, granted, a minor threat, but a threat nonetheless. Hell, she didn’t even know if this was genuine, considering the fact that he had said things like this multiple times before,  _ when he wanted to get his way. _

But sneaking another glance at him, his eyes lidded, his hair shaggy, his face littered with scars, and his arm hooked up to IV, she found it hard to believe that this was manipulation. What would he even get out of manipulating her? She couldn’t make his hospital visit go faster or heal his wounds.  _ Maybe he just liked spending time with her _ . The thought mildly weirded Veronica out at first, but the more she rolled the thought over in her mind, the more comfortable she came with it. She could tell things to JD that she wouldn’t dare to tell others. She could tell him about how badly she missed their previous relationship and not get a concerned or surprised stare. She could tell him about her destructive habits and he would relate, telling her about his own. She could tell him sarcastically to “fuck off” and have him respond with the same level of sarcasm.

He was Heather’s concern without the worry of having her problems told to her parents by a concerned friend. He was Heather’s sarcasm without the worry of overstepping a boundary or upsetting her. She found it hard to admit to herself, but she quite liked talking to JD. 

“Yeah, anyways, mushy shit aside,” JD smirked at her comment. Veronica’s posture relaxed and she scooted back to make herself more comfortable.  _ She was going to be here for a while _ ,  _ and for once, she was okay with that _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodnight or good day!!! <3


	9. Chapter 9

Heather watched as Veronica sprinted through Westerburg’s parking lot and hopped into her car. She watched as Veronica started her car and jetted out of Westerburg’s parking lot. Her eyebrow twitched in confusion as she reached for Heather’s green blazer to tug on. Tugging slightly, Heather leaned in towards her, eyebrow cocked in confusion with a friendly smile on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Where does Veronica go during lunch?”

Heather’s smile disappeared. “I don’t know, why?” Heather’s voice had an underlying manipulation to it. Heather had heard it before everytime Heather lied to Heather. That slight increase of her pitch and her slowing of tone. It was so easy for her to detect, but to others it worked like a charm.

“I know you followed her out there once,” Heather finally broke her gaze away from the windows, away from Veronica’s empty parking spot. She gazed into Heather’s eyes and past her lie. “What does she do?”

Heather blew air and shrugged. “She thinks,” Heather held out her S, grasping desperately for something else to add. “She feels, yeah, she feels stuff she doesn’t want to feel.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, everytime I go out there to see her, she’s staring at the spot where,” Heather nodded, motioning her hands, hoping that Heather would understand what she meant. “He ‘died’.” Heather airquoted the last word. Heather nodded in response to Heather’s answer. 

Heather leaned her cheek against her hand. She knew that Veronica had troubles coping with JD’s death, but every attempt she made to talk about him was shut down almost immediately. Whether it was with a “Can we stop talking about this?” or a “He’s fucking dead, like he should be.” All attempts to mention him were closed. Heather didn’t know if this was Veronica’s way of coping with it, or suppressing it. Veronica had never been good at dealing with her own problems. Maybe it was good that she was trying to feel something. _ Maybe _.

. . .

Heather waited for 45 minutes by the front door and _nothing_. No blue car racing into the parking lot, no brown mop of hair rushing up the stairs, no black or blue attire in sight. _It was like Veronica had just vanished_. Heather had tried waiting with her at first, but like typical Heather fashion, she got bored and walked off, disappearing into the bathroom. Now that Heather thought about it, she hadn’t seen Heather leave the bathroom yet. _Weird_. Heather brushed it off, she was more concerned about Veronica’s lack of appearance.

The last time Veronica was a no-show to Westerburg, Heather had found out a month later that she had attempted suicide. It was a terrible, gut-wrenching feeling, knowing that Veronica was all alone, miserable, and suffering, and that Heather had brushed it off as Veronica possibly being sick. _ She wasn’t going to let that happen again. _

Marching into the bathroom, she walked up to the last stall, where, underneath, she saw Heather’s bright green shoes desperately standing up and off the floor, followed by the sound of a toilet flushing. She knocked on the stall lightly. “Heather?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Hey, can you give me a ride to Veronica’s house?”

“Sure, just,” There was a slight pause. “Give me a moment.” Heather sounded weirdly disappointed, as if she expected some sort of different response from her. There was the noise of toilet paper ripping and the toilet being flushed once more before the stall was unlocked and thrown open. Heather frantically brushed past Heather and to the sink, where she threw water onto her face several times before washing her hands and, finally, grabbing a paper towel. Once she had thrown the paper towel away, she locked eyes with Heather.

“Let’s go.”

Their heels clanked almost identically down the halls and down the stairs. Heather sheepishly pulled out her car keys and unlocked her car before hopping inside. Heather took a moment and smiled, looking at the beat-up hood, remembering all the good times they had, riding in this thing, cracking jokes, eating food, and going shopping. Sometimes, even Heather would be nice, skip the degrading insult about Heather’s car and would just be chill and cool. Heather nodded to herself now, knowing that those memories of Heather were all she had left.

. . .

Heather plastered a smile on her face as she knocked three times on the Sawyer’s front door. Muffled voices rang out inside before the door was ripped open, and Veronica’s dad stood in its place. He had on a grey turtleneck and khaki pants. He gave Heather a warm smile. 

“Heather, what brings you here?”

“Hello, Mr. Sawyer, I was wondering if Veronica was sick or something, she hasn’t shown up at school yet.”

His facial expression immediately morphed from happy to confused. He shook his head wildly. “No, she left for school an hour ago.”

Heather’s smile twitched slightly. Veronica wasn’t home and she wasn’t at school. That left almost all of Sherwood to explore, and the entire country if Veronica had decided to run away. Inhaling sharply, she nodded. “Maybe she stopped by a 7-11 or something to get a bite to eat, thank you, Mr. Sawyer.” He nodded in agreement with Heather, praying silently in his mind that Veronica merely got caught up doing something harmless and lost track of time, that she hadn’t run off to do something stupid or dangerous.

“Bye, Heather.” The door replaced the figure of Mr. Sawyer as Heather turned on her heel and marched back to Heather’s car. 

“So? Where is she?”

Heather let out a breathy chuckle. “She’s not here and she’s not at school, that leaves practically everywhere.”

“So what? Are we going to spend the entire day searching for her?” Heather locked her eyes with Heather. She instantly knew what Heather was implying. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to search for Veronica or didn’t care for her, but she was covering for her. She knew that Veronica was most likely off somewhere, thinking to herself and attempting to get her emotions together. Veronica couldn’t be blamed for wanting a day off, right? After all, school was loud and her parents could be overbearing, right?

“Let’s just go back to school, maybe she’ll turn up.”

_ She never did. _

_ . . . _

It was 3pm. Heather had half given up hope by noon, but by this time she was getting seriously worried. Midway through lunch, she half-attempted to call the police, but was stopped by Heather, who told her that _ Veronica most likely didn’t want to be found. _ So, back to her seat she went, picking at her lunch, too nervous to eat anything, as the knot of worry in her stomach grew larger and larger.

Tapping her foot, Heather crossed and uncrossed her arms several times, waiting for Heather to finish messing around with her locker to give her a ride home. The slamming of a locker, followed by footsteps was an indication that she was done. She followed Heather’s green blazer down the main steps and through the parking lot. Once she was inside her car did she feel the full effect of her panic coming on.

“Heather, what if she’s dead?”

“What?”

Sweat started forming itself on the back of her neck and her forehead. Her heart, which pounded quite quickly beforehand, was starting to pound faster and faster with every negative outcome she formed in her head.

“The last time Veronica missed school, she nearly killed herself, and her parents don’t know where she is, what if,” Heather turned to face Heather, a single tear running down her cheek. “What if she really does it this time?”

“Heather,” Heather reached out and grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers together and placing her hand on top of their intertwined one. “Veronica, is a very smart individual, she probably ran off for the day to feel something. I mean, I don’t think she’s felt alive since JD tried to kill himself.” Heather shook her head. “She wouldn’t try to kill herself, she’s got too much to live for.”

Heather nodded, letting Heather’s words sink in. They were slightly comforting. After all, Veronica was a beacon of hope for everybody, she once told Heather that after she graduated, she had plans to become a therapist, help other people who had been hurt, _ maybe even worse than her _. What really soothed Heather though, was holding Heather’s hand, feeling her warmth occasional squeezes. The way she softly ran her hand across her face to wipe away the tears spilling out of her eyes. Heather’s heart ran fast.

_ And then it hit her. _

_ ‘She hasn’t felt alive since JD tried to kill himself’ _ . _ Tried to. JD was still alive. _He was in the hospital in intensive care. He wasn’t in a graveyard or a ditch somewhere, he was still alive. Suddenly, it made perfect sense as to where Veronica could be. 

“Heather, drive us to the hospital.”

. . .

Veronica let out a bark of laughter upon hearing JD’s joke. Shifting position so she could feel more comfortable in the chair, her eyes caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was 3:56 pm. She had really let time fly. Deep down, she felt slightly guilty, after all, she told her parents she’d be at school. A shiver went down her back as she realized how distraught Heather probably was about now. She made a mental note to phone her once she got home. Veronica sat up and stretched slightly, before standing up. 

“I gotta go.”

“Bye, ‘Ronica.”

The door shut behind her. She felt shivers run all over her body. _ ‘Ronica _ . The last time he called her that was when he was trying to convince her to blow up the school. When he was pounding his fists against her closet door, begging her to open it. When he was screaming her name at the top of his lungs. She shivered again. _ She had to tell him not to call her that. _

Veronica had barely started her trek through the hospital back to her car when she heard a very familiar set of voices. They echoed around the corner and surrounded Veronica, almost laughing at her stupidity. _ Of fucking course Heather would try to locate her. _

Veronica couldn’t let either of them spot her here. It would send Heather into a mental breakdown for weeks, lamenting about how terrible of a friend and person she was for ever letting Veronica know JD was alive. And Heather on the other hand would majorly disapprove, she would comfort Heather while shaming Veronica for ever going to visit the guy who nearly killed all of them.

Turning on her heel, she booked it down the hallway and ducked into one of the bathrooms, waiting patiently for the voices to pass. And pass they did, right by her, without a glance in or a second notice. She took a moment to breathe, letting the oxygen fill her lungs and slow down her ever-growing panic attack. Carely, she peeked around the corner, making sure they were actually gone before she booked it down the hall she was originally in. She ran past corners, taking turns she absolutely knew would lead her back to where she parked. It was kind of weird how she had memorized her way to his room and back, considering that not even a few days ago, she took her sweet time trying to find him.

Into her car she went, fumbling with keys and almost destroying her engine trying to turn it on. She pressed down on the gas pedal harder than ever before, and rushed out of the hospital parking lot. Away from one headache, and right into another.

. . .

Veronica had feared that Heather would go to extreme lengths, but she never thought that one absence from school would lead Heather to have such an extreme reaction that she would go directly to Veronica’s parents. Once she walked in, they nearly sat her down for a therapy session. It took a lot of “I’m fine”, but eventually Veronica got them off her back with the excuse that she wanted the day off to do something fun. They seemed to buy it, with much hesitance. As she walked up the stairs to her room, her mother called after her.

“Would you give Heather a ring and let her know where you’ve been, she came here, worried sick about where you were.”

Veronica sighed and nodded. “Sure thing, mom.” And with that, she retired to her room, reluctantly surrendering her next few hours to Heather’s frantic worrying.

. . . 

“Veronica, you can’t just do things like that, I was worried sick that you had gotten hurt or even killed yourself.”

“I appreciate your concern, Heather, I really do, but I’m allowed time to myself.”

“And I couldn’t find you after school either, so I went to the hospital because I thought you might’ve visited,” Heather’s voice died out. Veronica knew exactly what she was going to say.

“That I might’ve visited him?”

“Yeah.”

Veronica let out a loud sigh. “Heather, I’m not a baby, I get that you want to protect me from him, and trust me, I,” Veronica bit her lip pensively, JD’s presence was something she rather enjoyed. But she couldn’t tell Heather that. “Don’t like him either,” There was a small sigh of relief on Heather’s end. “But I don’t need you chasing after me just because I took a day off, okay? It would be the same for you, if you wanted a day off from your life, I would let you have it, okay?”

“Okay,” Silence. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Heather, goodbye.”

Veronica hung up her phone. Bringing her knees to her chest, Veronica let her guilt sink in. She didn’t like twisting her words so abhorrently that the other person couldn’t say no, but it was sometimes the only thing she had to get people off her back. She appreciated Heather’s worry for her mental wellbeing, but Heather needed to learn some boundaries, regardless of whether or not those boundaries needed to be crossed.

Her hand twitched before shaking. Veronica leaned back and rolled over on her side. Sneaking out to go see JD would be a really risky and dumb move. _ But what was Veronica if not a pot of bad decisions? _


	10. Chapter 10

Her window was finicky to get open, she practically had to snap her window lock off just to get it open. She gazed at the remains of the window lock in her hands before quickly dumping the remains onto the floor.  _ Now this window resembled the other one; it’s lock smashed and destroyed, providing easy access to anyone wanting to get in.  _ Heaving open the window, Veronica stopped for a moment, freezing cold air whipped against her face, blowing her hair back behind her ears. Momentarily, she looked back, eyeing the light underneath the door and the time on the clock.  _ 6:49 P.M.  _ She hopped out onto the roof, softly shut her window, and wormed her way to the edge of the roof.

Her way off the roof was less than peaceful. Originally, she wanted to climb down using the downspout as a wall to keep her balance. It started out fine, her hands wrapped around the downspout tube, her feet pressed firmly against her house wall, making small hops that lead ever closer to the ground. That was all fine and dandy until her hand hit an area on the spout that was wet, she lost her grip, and fell the rest of her way down. 

Veronica let out a small groan of pain as her back throbbed. Gritting her teeth, Veronica struggled to sit up, nearly letting out a scream of pain as she did so. Once she was up, her vision took its time to stop spinning. If she squinted, she could barely see the spout she had just fallen off of. From what she could discern, she fell half of the way down.

“Shit.” Veronica muttered to herself. Firmly, she planted her hands into the ground and attempted to lift herself up. Dirt smothered itself over her hands, crumbling into each and every crevice, her legs ached and wanted to collapse every second she continued, and her back pulsed and pounded in a frequency similar to her heart. Eventually, when she was on her feet, it felt like a dream, her head was light and she stumbled forward, smashing her arms into a wall and laying her head on top. 

The cold air whipped against her legs and blew up through her arms, brushing itself over her face and leaving its stinging feeling all over. Veronica pushed herself off the wall and stepped back. Looking up, a smile painted itself across her face as she saw the light for her parents room go out. Creeping to her car, she opened it as quietly as possibly and started it, hoping her parents would assume that it was some neighbor going out for a drink, or someone starting their car just for the hell of it. Softly, she pulled out and drove away as slowly as possibly, trying her best to imitate one of her neighbor’s driving patterns.

. . .

The smell of antiseptics and antibiotics filled her nose and overwhelmed her senses. Her footsteps were almost the only noise in the hospital, besides the distant rhythmic beeping that seemed to echo throughout. The air was surprisingly lukewarm, it wasn’t freezing compared to the outside, but it wasn’t warm enough to make one comfortable; it was just there, heating Veronica up, but never making her feel warm. The lights, which normally felt dull and yellowish, were surprisingly white when contrasted against a black sky. Veronica shivered and shook her head.  _ Visiting a hospital at night was fucking weird. _

Approaching the wooden door she had become so acquainted with, she placed her hand hesitantly on the handle. Her face twitched slightly as she leaned her head against the door, trying to understand what she was doing. It was only in this silence did she make out a noise. It was whispy and quiet, as if it was actively being muffled. Thinking it might’ve been coming from JD, she placed her ear on the door, straining for any noise being emitted from his room.  _ Sobbing. _ The noise she was hearing was sobbing, coming directly from JD’s room. Veronica leaned back away from the door, her hand involuntarily covering her mouth, her posture and reaction eerily similar to when she had found out about the fate of JD’s mother. 

Carefully, her right hand still covering her mouth, she reached out for the door, grabbing the handle and twisting it open and slowly pushing the door open. The hand at her mouth instantly dropped inself next to her thigh. Standing there awestruck, she observed JD. His hair was shaggy, thrown around and placed on his forehead scraggly. His face was covered by his hands, one of which, Veronica noted, was inside his mouth as a way to muffle his sobs. 

Seeing JD like this didn’t make Veronica feel too happy. It was always in her nature to help people, but she didn’t know how to help JD. Desperately, she wanted to walk across the room and pull him into a hug, console and tell him that everything would be alright, but Veronica didn’t even know how to make the first step. She didn’t know how and her brain didn’t want her to help him. It screamed that this was a horrible idea. That upon seeing him in this state she should’ve just turned on her heel and gone home; she was already sneaking out after all. That she shouldn’t be helping JD emotionally. Chatting with him? Making small quips and sarcastic jokes with him? They would all lead to nothing! She wasn’t getting attached to him by telling him a joke about her day.

_ But this? _ Him breaking down, his mental wellbeing on display for her to see and her actively wanting to aid him and make him feel better? It was a surefire way to get reattached. And Veronica knew it.  _ And yet she took the first step. _

Quietly, she closed the door behind her, blanketing the room back into its shade of grey, the only light coming from a shitty light bar above JD’s bed. She glanced at JD to make sure he hadn’t heard her. His face was still entirely covered by his hands. She crept over to her usual chair and picked it up off the ground. Finding it surprisingly heavy, she struggled to carry it over to a side of his bed. Once she had reached the area she wanted to sit at, she set the chair down as gently as possibly and sat down.

Carefully, she reached out and grabbed one of JD’s arms. His arm instantly jerked away from her and his eyes darted to hers, glaring at her momentarily before turning into confused peering. His arm that she had grabbed slowly returned back into Veronica’s grasp while the other stayed near his forehead, shadowing his facial features. Veronica bit her lip and held her hand out for JD, giving him an earnest look that promised that _this was real, and that she was there for him_. Slowly, he started moving his hand in her direction, its rapid shaking and twitches indicating that JD wasn’t entirely positive about this decision. He had only reached halfway before Veronica decided to make the second step. In what seemed as fast as light, Veronica had reached out and grabbed a hold of his hand, slowly pulling it towards her before laying it down at the edge of his bed. 

“I’m here, it’s okay.” Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, tracing the indents and curves, running along the dozens and dozens of tiny scars that came from his attempted suicide. Across the veins in his hand and almost down to his wrist, repeating in peaceful patterns. Across his knuckles, over his scars, and down his wrist.

He blinked, letting his surroundings come back to him and his panic fade ever so slightly into oblivion. His hand covering his face pushed his hair back into its ever-so-charming look. “Veronica?” His voice choked and was fragile due to his crying. Veronica nodded, a sad smile transpired across her lips.

JD’s cheeks flushed an embarrassing shade of scarlet. He had let Veronica walk in on him having a mental breakdown,  _ how embarrassing _ . He almost wanted to start crying again, having the one thing he cared about witness him in a state like this was so utterly humiliating and made him feel so powerless, so weak and meek. His hand that Veronica held snatched itself out of her grasp and repositioned itself back onto his face, blocking his facial features from her view entirely. Veronica took the hint and leaned back in her chair.

“What happened?”

JD dropped his hands and blew air. A part of his breath hit a chunk of his hair and blew it upwards. Veronica’s lips twitched upwards at the sight. “My fucking dad, that’s all.”

Veronica fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t feeling annoyed by JD per say,  _ but JD’s father? Oh boy.  _ Veronica didn’t like JD’s father the second she met him. She didn’t like JD’s father when he made a sexually perverse comment on her. She didn’t like JD’s father when he smacked his own son into the floor with the back of his hand  _ in front of his girlfriend. _ JD’s father was someone who Veronica would always despise. He turned what could’ve been a normal, happy person into the living wreck that was JD. 

“What did he do?”

“It’s what he didn’t do, Veronica, okay?” JD’s voice cracked on the last syllable of okay. Veronica was able to make out the vague glistening of JD’s eyes. His hand once again returned to cover his face. “He moved away and isn’t fucking coming back,” JD pursued his lips in hopes of smothering his sobs. “First it was my mom, and now me.” 

And then he broke down. Tears poured out of his eyes faster than he could wipe them away. One hand desperately tried to stay in his mouth to muffle his rather loud sobs, while the other sloppily wiped away both snot and tears. His entire frame was shaking. It looked like he was on the verge of collapsing, and turning into dust. 

“Hey, hey,” Veronica reached out, grabbing a hold of the hand trying to wipe away his tears and pulled it towards her. He tried, at first, resisting, but she pulled slightly harder, and he gave in. “Look at me, JD, please.” 

Through a clouded vision, JD made out the form of Veronica’s face. The exact details on them were blurred by the tears. She ran her fingers along his hand more fast than before, hoping that it would somehow ease his crying. Another one of her hands reached out to cup his face, with her thumb wiping over one of his eyes and clearing it of tears. Through this now cleared eye, he could make out her facial features more clearly. Her face was filled with concern, with a slight look of worry that dilated in her eyes, as if she was afraid to help him. Her hand that cupped his face went on to grab his hand that was in his mouth to gently remove it. She brought it down to his chest and set it there, stroking it softly before retracting her hand back to her lap. 

“Your dad is an incredibly abusive piece of shit.” Veronica nodded, boldly speaking her statement. JD actually laughed at the comment.  _ She wasn’t wrong. _

“Yeah.” The word came out in airy chunks, with a twinge of laughter added in. 

“And no matter what, you can not compare him being a huge piece of shit to your own value, him leaving you doesn’t mean that you were a mistake.”

His heart pounded.  _ Veronica always knew what to say, didn’t she? It was as if she could read his mind and thoughts, as if all their conversations had somehow clued her in to his underlying misery. _

“Tsk,” Veronica raised an eyebrow, expecting JD to somehow debate the things she had said. But instead he gazed and flashed a smile at her. “Thanks, Veronica.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Veronica’s cheeks flushed at the thanks. Helping people was simply what she did, but it always felt weird to receive gratitude in return for shelling out advice. Her hand remained firmly on top of his, still rubbing circles into the back of it.  _ If she had any better sense she would’ve let go of his hand by this point. _ But for some reason, she didn’t want to. It was so serene, so peaceful, so calm. It was the most relaxed and comfortable Veronica had felt in weeks.  _ And how ironic was it that she was at her most comfortable with the person who, just a few days prior, she was incredibly uncomfortable around _ . 

“Why are you here? It’s rather late in the day.” JD’s comment pierced the still quiet that surrounded the room. Veronica wasn’t sure whether to hate it or be grateful for it. It moved the conversation onward, from emotions and conflicting feelings and thoughts. Yet, a part of her wanted to talk more with JD, to dive deep in-  _ why did she care so much? Things were moving onwards-that was all that mattered. _

She never did let go of his hand.

“Oh, well, I just wanted to see you,” Veronica bit her tongue. JD just had a mental breakdown in front of her, if he could entrust her with that then surely she could tell him about her own drama, right? It wasn’t like it was going to lead anywhere afterall, _ right?  _ “I skipped school to talk with you and Heather freaked out about it,”

“Wh-” JD immediately cut himself off. The last time he asked which Heather was which, her mental state deteriorated within seconds. Not wanting a repeat of that, he bit his inner cheek as punishment for even thinking of asking about that. Luckily for him, Veronica merely flashed him a confused look before continuing onwards.

“She went to my parents about it and nearly caught me leaving the hospital,” 

‘ _ Nearly caught me leaving the hospital’?  _ What did Veronica mean by that? Was she not allowed to be at the hospital?  _ Then it hit him _ . Veronica wasn’t supposed to be around  _ him.  _ It kinda hurt that Veronica was hiding her visits with him from everybody, like he was a secret that could never be public. Yet, he couldn’t exactly fault her for that, she was probably keeping her visits with him private to avoid public backlash, or her parents getting enraged, or her friends getting concerned,  _ or any valid reason that would come as a result from people knowing that she was visiting him _ .

“I went home and my mother insisted I call her, so I did, and Heather is unnaturally worried about me.” Veronica nodded to herself. “She said she was concerned because the last time I missed school I tried to kill myself,” Wait,  _ Veronica had tried to kill herself?  _ Guilt came rapidly pouring in, seeping into his mind and surrounding his brain. Repeating the statement and obvious fact over and over, drilling into his conscience,  _ that it was his fault.  _ Afterall, if he had ceased to exist, never interfered in her life, never talked to her, made promises with her, and  _ promised to love her _ , she wouldn’t be constantly dying with the knowledge that he was alive, right?  _ This was all his fault. _

“So, she freaked out and, I guess, tried to track me down.” Veronica shrugged with her free arm.

“When did you try to kill yourself?” 

Lethal was the best way to describe JD’s question. It sliced through the somewhat peaceful air around them and instantly wrapped both of them in a thick blanket of anxiety. Veronica’s thumb went limp on top of his knuckles. She peered at him, mouth open from the previous statement, frozen in mild shock from his query.

“Uhm,”

“You don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s fine,” Veronica let out a breathy chuckle. “We were eventually going to have to talk about it.” Veronica’s limp thumb twitched softly. Slowly, it continued the pattern,  _ across his knuckles, over his scars, towards his wrist.  _ “It wasn’t entirely your fault,”

Those words kind of stung.  _ It wasn’t entirely your fault.  _ But it was still partially his fault, he still caused some part of her attempted suicide. No matter how big or how small his part was,  _ he still aided in her suffering.  _

“After you ‘died’,” Veronica airquoted with her free hand before slapping it down back on her lap. “A bunch of reporters tried to pry information out of me, regardless of whether or not I consented to it. I could hardly go out in public without a dozen reporters swarming, pestering me with questions,” Veronica took a moment to clear her throat. “Over you.” 

JD exhaled softly through his teeth. That sounded like Hell. Living in the hospital was hell enough; hardly having privacy with nurses and therapists up his ass about everything. He only let himself feel at night, for fear of letting his emotions show during the day would guarantee him a longer stay. But nurses were scheduled, it was  _ easy _ to predict when they were coming.  _ Reporters? _ They had no warning attached, they were everywhere, like an apex predator to meek prey, they struck whenever they wanted.  _ And to have had to deal with that on the daily? _ JD couldn’t even fathom how much harassment Veronica had gone through.

“One night a reporter called me and I couldn’t take it anymore,” Veronica took a moment to inhale. She was fairly certain she hadn’t taken a breath since starting this story. “I tried to kill myself by slitting my wrists.”

Silence.

Clean cut silence.

JD refused to make eye contact with her. His face was null, full of emotion yet so void of it at the same time. He glared with a raging intensity at his bedsheets. So many thoughts running through his head.

“I’m sorry, Veronica.”

Veronica nodded. She didn’t know exactly how to reply to that.  _ Sure,  _ her suicide was partially his fault, but he wasn’t necessarily the thing that drove he to do it. She definitely forga- _ did she though? He still was the root of so much of her pain and suffering. His sadness at her misery wasn’t reason to forgive _ . Veronica swallowed her rising anger. This wasn’t the time to get angry. This was a situation where no fingers could be pointed.  _ There was no one to directly blame. _

“That’s okay, JD.”

And suddenly, the silence that enveloped them wasn’t so much suffocating and awkward as it was full of tranquility and peace. For the first time in their fraught, tired friendship, they had talked to each other about their secrets, the deepest, darkest parts of their past that they didn’t want anybody else to know. 

Veronica, for one, was exhilarated to have gotten her past suicide attempt off her chest. It was something that often lingered in her mind and clawed at her thoughts, desperate for attention. Forming a friendship with JD was guaranteeing that part of her past some attention. Granted, she didn’t think she would talk to him so soon about it, but the sooner it was off her chest the better.

JD, on the other hand, had another thing added to his ever-growing pile of things to hate himself with. There was him being a murderer, him nearly being a mass murderer, and now there was him nearly causing the death of his only friend so far. It was refreshing to have her open up about such a traumatic event so early on into their friendship,  _ especially _ considering that she literally had a mental breakdown a few days prior talking about Heather. That didn’t overcome the amount of guilt that had been stockpiled onto his mind. 

Veronica lightly squeezed his hand before letting go. Veronica felt the cold air hit against her hand as she retracted it towards her lap. JD’s hand just laid limp against the blanket. It was weird, as if he had entered some sort of mental comatose. Null, refusing to move, or speak, or  _ feel. _

“I should go, it’s late, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The door had already slammed shut before JD uttered out a reply.

_ “I’m sorry.” _


	11. Chapter 11

It was a stupid idea to leave her house in the first place, but it was an _even stupider_ idea to have left the hospital. Veronica massaged her forehead. JD seemed absolutely broken by her attempted suicide, she figured it would’ve been more beneficial to his mental state if she wasn’t in the room. _Even if she had stayed,_ _she had no idea what she could’ve possibly said to help him feel better. _

So, here she was, circling around her neighborhood for the fifth time, thinking of a place to stay overnight. Going back into her house was like suicide, her parents would freak out over the fact that she snuck out in the first place and would probably lock her in her room as a punishment. No, returning home and attempting to sneak back in was far too risky, especially considering her fall getting out of the house. 

An idea hit her on her 13th drive around her neighborhood. It wasn’t any better than the ideas she had thought of before (Sleeping in her car didn’t seem like a fantastic idea considering what happened before, and going back to the hospital was a no), so she took a left, pulling out of her neighborhood and going down the backroads she had familiarized herself with.

Pulling into Heather’s driveway, Veronica stopped for a moment and gazed at the establishment in front of her before killing her engine and getting out. 

Walking up to the door, shivering and slowly losing feeling in her fingers, she grabbed the knocker and knocked three times. She waited patiently for a moment, using her arms as cover from the wind. She silently cursed at just how long it was taking Heather to open the door. Sure, Veronica expected her to take a while considering the fact that Heather’s ‘house’ was more like a fortress, but surely she couldn’t have been so far away from the door to have not heard anything. 

Veronica exhaled, watching her breath turn into white air and fly away. She reached out for the knocker once when the door was ripped open in front of her. Warm air instantly started hitting her face and rolled back some of the numbness. Heather gawked at Veronica.

“Veronica,” Looking her up and down, Heather’s expression couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be concerned or excited. “It’s late, what are you doing here?”

“Uh, that’s a long story and I’ll explain it eventually, but can I spend the night here?”

Heather bit her lip before opening her arms wide, eagerly awaiting Veronica’s embrace. Veronica walked into the warm house and into the warm arms of Heather, wrapping her arms around her torso and snuggling her head onto her shoulder. From behind her, Veronica could hear the door being slammed shut.

“Of course.” The statement came out in brief, whispy breaths, as if Heather’s breath was taken away by her sudden appearance. The more Veronica thought about it, the more it was probably true. She let go of Heather’s torso and pushed her away, holding her arm and giving her a light squeeze before walking up one of the numerous staircases that lead to Heather’s room.

Ice ran through Heather’s blood, goosebumps popped up over every pore on her body, and her heart began to pick up speed.  _ Veronica smelled of antiseptics.  _ ** _She was at the hospital._ ** Heather’s fist closed and opened itself several times, each time her surroundings fading back into her existence and the shock and panic creeping on her back slowly regressing back to where it came. Inhaling sharply, Heather unclenched her hands and turned on her heel, fabricating a smile that would  _ hopefully _ cover her fear for whatever Veronica was getting herself into.

. . .

Heather waved softly, watching Veronica’s form get into her car. Veronica waved back through the window, a barely visible smile that was soon far out of sight as Veronica’s car drove out of Heather’s parking lot. Heather watched the car turn around and take a left. Heather stood in place for five minutes despite Veronica no longer being there, just pondering what on Earth Veronica was doing at the hospital. Heather didn’t want to believe that it was JD. Veronica was so adamant in her hatred for him and so unbelievably convincing every time Heather asked. She couldn’t imagine, _she couldn’t possibly fathom_ _him and Veronica being in the same room together_.

Heather uncrossed her arms and headed back inside, her skin instantly returning warmth, and headed up to her room. Walking over to her desk, she pulled out her chair and sat down in it, placing her head in her hand.

“Oh, Veronica.”

Sighing softly, she turned the chair towards the desk and picked up the receiver to her phone. She pulled numbers she knew all too well and waited patiently for a response. The first call went nowhere. Nor the second or third. It took Heather four calls to finally get through to Heather. A groan was audibly heard along with tons of shuffling. A muggy, “Hello?” was heard, as if Heather had spent the night out drinking and was now sick with a hangover.

“Heather? Can we talk?”

“Heatherr?” Heather’s words were slightly slurred. More shuffling was heard. “Are you okay, what’s going on?” Heather sounded more clear for some reason, as if she had straightened herself upright. 

“It’s about Veronica, I, I think she’s visiting,” Heather dropped her voice barely above a whisper. “Him.”

The phone nearly dropped out of Heather’s hand. Her face drained of its color, her eyes widened, her eyebrows arched, thoughts of fear and anger running through her mind. The world around her was pulsing, fading in and fading out. Zooming in and zooming out, as if reality was distorted by Heather’s statement. Heather’s grip on her phone tightened. A grimace slowly spread itself across Heather’s face. Thinking of all the time she had inadvertently nearly helped JD kill people.  _ Nearly kill her.  _ When he handed her that petition, she didn’t pick up on his inner malice. She should’ve. It was almost as blatant as Heather when she demanded Veronica to write that note. She should’ve recognized it  _ and she didn’t _ . 

JD was  _ charming _ , for certain, though his charming looks and slippery way with words might’ve worked on someone else, they failed miserably on Heather. For one, she wasn’t straight. His charming looks, his handsome appearance? Instantly out the window. For two, Heather was just as equally wit with words as he was, if not more so. No, it was the promise of power that Heather fell for. She knew he had an underlying cause, but her greed and guile overruled, made her turn a blind eye. 

Veronica telling Heather to throw away the petition was her first and only red flag.  _ And Heather ignored it _ . Thought Veronica was just being resentful that Heather was the first female he talked to after their break-up. The fear in her eyes as she remarked that the petition was made for the garbage should’ve clued her in.  _ But Heather ignored it _ .

Was it not for Veronica managing to stop him, Heather basically ghost wrote the entire school’s suicide note,  _ and she felt terrible about it _ . It had always been something she suppressed, after all,  _ JD was incredibly manipulative _ . But he didn’t manipulate her, that was the problem.  _ Her obsession with power was manipulated. _

The thought that Veronica, the one who saved them all from JD, the one who was able to fight past his manipulation in the first place, was the first person seeing him again was  _ horrifying. _ It was gut-wrenching, it felt like seeing someone approach a deadly object,  _ knowing it’s deadly, _ and still walking towards it. If Veronica  _ was _ visiting JD, Heather  _ had  _ to intervene, she just  _ had to _ . She had let the mistake happen once, let it slip by her guard and take over her, fueling her megalomaniac desires,  _ she wasn’t going to let it happen again _ .

“Heather? Are you alright?”

Heather inhaled sharply, letting oxygen once again flow through her body. Her surroundings stopped moving and morphed back into their regular forms. One of her hands was gripped so rigidly to her bedsheets she could’ve sworn she almost ripped them. Her other was clutching the phone to her ear, knuckles white from how tightly it was held. 

“I’m here, Heather, why do you think that?”

“Well, she stopped by my house last night, close to eight, she asked to stay the night, when I asked why she told me she’d tell me later.”

“That’s not necessarily suspicious, Hea-”

“No, of course not,” Heather cut cleanly across her words. Heather felt a smirk forming in the corners of her lips. Heather was finally learning to defend herself. “I gave her a hug and she reeked of, you know, hospital smell?”

“Antiseptics.” Heather muttered, the word slipping out under her breath. Antiseptics were commonly used to help treat wounds, they weren’t  _ just _ found in hospitals. But considering Veronica’s lack of wounds, and her  _ absolute refusal _ to tell anybody anything, it had to have been the latter. “What else happened?”

. . .

“Bye, Heather.” Veronica waved Heather off, watching and waiting for her yellow form to disappear down the hallway. Once she saw Heather turn the corner, she whipped back around to her locker, fumbling with the lock, and smacking it a couple times out of frustration. Heather watched Veronica have her mini meltdown with a face void of emotion.

“Fuck!” Veronica slammed her fist against the lock before attempting, once more, to unlock it. Finally, rotating the dial back to zero, the top popped off with a satisfying click. Veronica practically ripped the locker off its hinges, shoving her hand down her bra, and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, which she promptly threw into the locker before shutting it close again. 

“Feeding an urge, huh?”

Veronica turned to face Heather, letting out a small sigh. She leaned against the locker, putting her foot up against it as a stabilizer. “Yeah.”

“You know,” Heather moved in front of Veronica. “Before Heather and I became friends again, I was obsessed with her,” Heather turned away from Veronica. Veronica cocked her head, tempted to reach out and touch Heather’s shoulder, to ask her what was going on. “I would’ve done anything to get her to talk to me, to even look at me,” Heather turned back around to face Veronica, she lazily pointed a finger towards her, her head cocked in an almost condescending manner.  _ Where was Heather going with this? _ “How far would you let your obsession go?”

Veronica couldn’t help it, she let out a small chuckle. “Heather, you’re speaking in tongues.”

Heather gave Veronica a look of annoyance before closing the distance between them, getting right into her face. It felt weird, Heather’s face inches away from her own, her hot breath blowing onto Veronica’s face. It actually made her feel quite trapped,  _ like her breath was the steam the boilers were releasing… _

“Are you?”

Veronica quickly shoved her forming panic attack down, trying to focus less and less on Heather being so near to her, and more on anything else, like her hands. Her hands were extremely pale and her left one had a massive scab on it from aggressively burning herself. Her nails were fairly long, her middle fingers’ were chipped and her pointer fingers’ were shorter than the rest. Her knuckles were prominent and had small pink scars from…  _ it was best not to think of that. _

“Veronica, are you?” Heather persisted, still trying to get some sort of answer out of Veronica. Veronica couldn’t see her face right now, but she could  _ feel _ the glare Heather was giving her.

“Am I what?” Veronica kept her focus on her hands, she couldn’t stop focusing on them, Heather didn’t seem to acknowledge that what she was doing was giving Veronica a panic attack, and at this point, Veronica feared looking away would cause her to easily slip into one.

“Are you? Visiting him?”

Veronica’s eyes flickered up for a millisecond before darting back down to stare at her hands. Her heart began to pick up the pace and pound. Her face flashed with unease. Veronica felt a panic attack coming, but it wasn’t because of Heather’s hot breath on her, or her inability to move, but because,  _ somehow, her secret had been found. _

Heather didn’t need anymore answers. Veronica’s quick eye contact with her and the ever-so slight grimace she formed after hearing the question were proof enough. Crossing her arms, she backed away from Veronica. “You are, aren’t you?” Heather spoke softly, but her accusing tone made it seem like she had screamed it to everyone in the school.

Veronica’s breaths were beginning to become shallow, with every breath, it seemed harder and harder to exhale. She felt  _ exposed _ .  _ Somehow _ , Heather had found out. And if Heather knew, that meant Heather either also knew or was going to know. Maybe they found out when they tracked her down at the hospital, although Veronica was absolutely certain that she was completely hidden from either of them.

“The hospital,” Heather nodded to herself, as if this was a piece of a puzzle she was just now solving. “That’s where you go during lunch-” Heather gave Veronica an incredulous stare. “That’s where you were Friday, weren’t you?” Heather’s face was torn between two emotions; concern and anger. Concern shone through her eyes, questioning Veronica and practically begging her to tell her that she was wrong. Anger was shown everywhere else. Her hitched down eyebrows, her frown, her tone of voice.

Veronica shook her head. She knew that this was going to blow up in her face. She knew it, and  _ she still fucking did it _ . Rage was bubbling inside of her, she was tempted to scream at Heather, to tell her to “Fuck off”. To shout nasty and cruel things about how she didn’t,  _ and never would _ , understand. But doing any of that would simply make the situation worse, way _ way _ worse. She needed to defuse the situation, not add more flame to the fire. Crossing her arms, she sighed before giving Heather a deadpan look.

“You have no proof.” 

Heather’s eyes narrowed. “Veronica, what you’re possibly doing has the potential to endanger everybod-”

“Heather, what you’re doing is throwing accusations at me based on a reaction I had to you mentioning JD.”

Heather was taken aback by this statement. She hadn’t heard Veronica say his name in a long time. Anytime conversation about JD was brought up, Veronica would always refer to him as ‘him’, as if she didn’t want to give him a name. Heather took a moment to analyze Veronica’s face. She noted that her eyes were glassy, as if she was on the verge of crying. Heather couldn’t help it, she felt sympathetic.

“Just,” Veronica sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Leave me alone.”

And with that, Veronica took off down the hall, winding around the first corner, and out of Heather’s sight. Pursuing her lips, she crossed her arms. Half of her was tempted to run down the hallway, chase after Veronica and give her an apology. The other half of her was still stubbornly set on getting Veronica to confess. Veronica was a very compelling liar after all. Heather shook her head and walked towards her locker, twisting the knob several times and opening it.  _ She wasn’t so sure what to believe _ .

In the distance, clanking heels approached, the noise getting louder and louder until a yellow blur was behind the outline of Heather’s locker. Heather sighed, slamming her locker shut. 

“What happened between you and Veronica? She walked off down the hall and wouldn’t even respond to me.”

Heather grabbed both of Heather’s shoulders and brought her close to her. “Look, I don’t know what is going on with Veronica, but,” Heather sighed. She let go of her shoulders. Heather didn’t necessarily want to tell Heather about what had just happened, considering the fact that the two were still rather close. Not to mention, like Veronica said, she didn’t have any concrete evidence other than her uncomfortable reaction to what Heather said. And Veronica couldn’t be blamed for having an uneasy reaction to that,  _ now could she? After all, JD was the root of her trauma. _

“Do you think she’s visiting him?” 

Heather pursed her lips. Even though it was understandable why Veronica was upset, she had never referred to JD by his actual name. Something was wearing her down, something was making her drop her resistance to him. And that something?  _ Heather was going to find it, no matter what. _

“It’s something,” Heather nodded in response. It didn’t answer any of her questions, but if Heather was going to be vague, Heather had another person she could always turn to. “Let’s get to class.” 

. . .

Veronica didn’t even bother to enter the lunchroom. Heather watched from the window as she trembled down the steps and nearly collapsed onto the tenth one. She told Heather she’d be back and followed after her. 

Veronica wanted to scream the second she heard the door open. Quickly, she threw her cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. She swallowed all the smoke she inhaled, which was not a smart move on her behalf. As soon as whoever was exiting the school started walking towards her, she started violently coughing. Heather ran over to her and began to pat on her back, as if, somehow, that would ease her coughing. Once her coughing fit subsided, Heather brushed off her skirt and took her place next to Veronica.

“Veronica, hey.”

“Did she send you out here?”

Heather was slightly taken aback by Veronica's deadpan tone towards her. She was taken aback by Veronica thinking that she was being used by Heather. “What? No, I,” Heather sighed, frustrated. “I just want to know what’s going on between you two, that’s all.”

Veronica peered at Heather before cracking her neck and turning fully towards her. “People never fully change, Heather is still,” Veronica nodded, gesturing softly as if it would magically make Heather know what she meant. “She’s still a Heather.” Veronica felt absolutely horrible for what she was about to do. She didn’t want to rip Heather and Heather apart again, especially after they had just become friends, but she absolutely could **_not_** have Heather freaking out on her and constantly trying to track her location. 

Heather cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“Heather is a  _ very _ compelling liar, I just need to take everything she says about me with a grain of salt, okay?”

“B-but, why? I don’t understa-”

“She’s been threatening me.” If Veronica was being honest,  _ threatening _ was a little bit of an exaggeration, Heather  _ interrogated _ her, but the worse Heather sounded to Heather, the more likely Heather was to keep her distance. 

Heather didn’t know what to think. She was torn, on one hand, she cared deeply for Heather and was more than ecstatic that their relationship was back on track, but she didn’t really trust Heather as much as she did Veronica. Sure, she had known Heather for way longer, but she had lost all trust in her once she went power-crazy. Veronica, on the other hand, obviously had something going on in her life. Veronica had been depressed before Heather ever mentioned JD, but after she did? Veronica was basically a stranger to her at this point, ditching school, reeking of antiseptics, showing up at her house at odd hours, being more secretive than normal, and yet, despite all of that, Heather truly trusted Veronica. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thanks, Heather.”

Heather spread her arms, offering a hug to Veronica. Veronica happily melted into her arms, looping her own arms around Heather’s shoulders and placing her head next to Heather’s neck. Veronica was glad Heather couldn’t see her face,  _ guilt ran all over it _ . Letting out a minor sigh, Veronica gave Heather a tight squeeze before pushing her away. Heather gave her a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder before getting up and heading back inside. Veronica almost wanted to follow her inside.  _ Almost _ .

Heather entered the cafeteria, quickly spotting Heather, who was sitting among a few of their friends. Hastily, she walked over to her. She snaked a hand onto her shoulder, causing Heather to turn around and look at her.

“Hey.”

“Hey, can we talk,” Some of her friends took notice of Heather and waved at her. “Somewhere private?”

“Of course,” Heather nodded before standing up. She gave Heather a playful smile that Heather did not return. “Lead the way.”

Heather trailed behind Heather as she led her out of the cafeteria, down the hallway, and into the nearest bathroom. Heather began to feel anxiety bubbling inside of her. What on Earth was Heather going to tell her that needed  _ this _ much privacy?

“So, what’s going on?”

Heather turned to face her. She had an expression of apprehension, as if she really didn’t want to talk to Heather about whatever she needed to. “Veronica says you’ve been threatening her,” Heather had to fight the urge to laugh. ‘Threatening’? Yeah, either Veronica was overreacting or exaggerating. “And, I care about you as much as I do her, but I can’t fall into another one of your schemes, okay? I’m sorry, Heather.” Heather gave Heather a solemn look before walking past her and returning, presumably, to the lunchroom. 

Heather had never felt more anger and confusion in her life. Did Heather seriously believe that Heather was stupid enough to threaten Veronica? Was this set up by Veronica? Did Veronica deliberately tell Heather a lie to get her away from Heather? Heather had  _ just _ repaired her relationship and to have it all thrown away because Veronica was too  _ fucking ignorant _ to admit that she was visiting JD? 

Heather’s feet moved on their own volition, picking up the pace to where she was full blown running towards the front doors of Westerburg. She slammed them open, dashing past them, seeing the hunched over form of Veronica on the steps. Heather slowed her pace upon hitting the stairs. She trotted down to the tenth step and angrily knelt down to Veronica’s level. Veronica didn’t even bother to look at her, cigarette haphazardly hanging out of her mouth, her eyes trained on the etch mark that were permanently tained to the ground. 

“You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you?”

Veronica’s lips tightened around the cigarette. She inhaled before putting the cigarette in her hand. Cracking her neck, she turned to Heather. “I just don’t like being accused, okay?” Veronica added a sarcastic undertone to her ‘Okay’.

Heather pointed a finger dangerously close to Veronica’s face. “I don’t want to harass you, Veronica, but when it comes to the safety of everybody in this school,” Heather gestured wildly in the direction of the building. “I will not hesitate to make your life a living Hell, okay?” Heather mimicked Veronica’s sarcasm. Swiftly, she stood up.

Veronica nodded, putting the cigarette back into her mouth for another puff. She stood up, removed the cigarette from her mouth, and blew the smoke into Heather’s face. “Come after me, and I will make sure Heather never trusts you again.” 

Heather’s nose crinkled in response to the smoke. She nearly gagged, rapidly waving her hand in front of her face to get rid of the smoke. At this point, it was hard to find concern for Veronica. Heather still wanted to know what the  _ fuck _ was going on with her, but Veronica’s aggressive behavior towards her made her just want to fight back. Heather merely cracked a smile, withholding her punches. “See you later, Veronica.” And walked off back into the school, leaving behind a confused Veronica.  _ If Veronica wasn’t going to admit that she was visiting JD, then Heather was going to catch her, right where she knew she would be. _

. . .

Veronica sighed as she stared at the room number on the door.  _ 198 _ . The uncertainty of how JD was going to react to seeing her was what Veronica feared the most. She hadn’t seen him in  _ two  _ days. That was two days he was left with the bombshell that was her attempted suicide. Veronica felt absolutely horrible for leaving him alone when he probabl- _ why did she care so goddamn much? He was upset over it, who cares? He deserved every ounce of suffering he got. _

Veronica wanted to scream, between conflicting emotions, guilt, regret, and Heather harassing her, she wasn’t so sure if being here was the smartest decision she was making. She sighed, attempting to run a hand through her hair and getting ridiculously frustrated at the fact that she couldn’t. Ripping her hand away from her scalp, she knocked on the door before opening it and stepping inside. Once inside, she turned around and shut the door. She shuffled over and collapsed into her usual chair, turning her attention to JD.

Once she did turn her attention to him, he gave her a small wave. Veronica smirked and gave him a two-fingered wave back. He frowned. She frowned, did her acknowledging him upset him somehow? Was he thinking of their conversation from Friday?

“Are you okay?”

“I thought you would notice my ability to use my wrist.” JD shook his head. 

“Oh,” Veronica cracked a grin, almost every worry she had disappeared. “Sorry.”

JD held up his hand. “Don’t apologize,” Veronica nodded, holding up her hands in the universal symbol of peace. “Though this means I should be getting out of here sooner rather than later.”

Veronica nodded, dropping her hands back into her lap. Though she desperately wanted to talk about her suicide attempt and how it  _ really wasn’t his fault _ , Veronica figured it would be best to set it aside, and save it for when they  _ both _ wanted to talk about it. “Do you have a definite discharge date?”

“They said if everything goes according to plan, that I  _ might _ be released by mid to late March.” 

Veronica nodded. “Really? Is that so?”

“Yeah, they even said they were impressed with how fast I was healing.”

Veronica let out a small snort at his comment. She understood completely how  _ awful _ it was to be trapped inside a hospital, the constant want and desire to recover quickly and return to the human world. Only, in JD’s case, he couldn’t pretend to be alright to escape. Physical wounds weren’t so easily disguised.

A sudden, rather jarring knock at the door silenced both Veronica and JD’s chuckles. JD rolled his eyes, assuming it to be another random nurse checking in on him. “Hey, Ronnie, go get that for me.” He cracked her a grin. Nurses were constantly coming and going from his room, knocking and entering, it would be fun to spice it up a little. Veronica gave him a painfully forced smile and stood up, sauntering to the door and remaining eye contact with him the entire time. Once at the door, she rolled her eyes, turning her full attention to the wooden block in front of her. Gripping the door handle, she twisted it and pulled back, expecting the form of a nurse, or someone dressed in purple, or someone with a doctor’s jacket on,  _ or anybody who worked at the hospital _ .

Instead, she was met with the scowling face of Heather Duke. Arms crossed, knee popped, and a look of petulance on her face. Veronica’s heart dropped the moment she saw her. 

“You just don’t like being accused, right?”


	12. Chapter 12

Veronica was so fucking easy to track, Heather could’ve done it in her sleep. After her abrupt reaction to Heather interrogating her, her lying to Heather, and her _threatening _her, it was _painfully_ _obvious_ where Veronica was going to be that evening. Heather pulled into a random parking spot that had a clear view of the front of the hospital. She killed the engine, pushed her seat back, and waited. Waited for Veronica’s blue car to come barreling in. Waited for Veronica to hastily rush out of the car and frantically run inside, shoving a hand in front of her face to avoid detection. After a few minutes, Heather cracked her neck and pulled her seat forward, opening the door and spilling out onto the pavement. 

The cold air was a brisk contrast to the warm air that Heather had lounging in. The air whipping at every uncovered orifice on Heather’s body made her only quicken her pace. She slammed her hands against the doors, opening them almost immediately but attracting the attention of nearly everyone around her. She brushed off their confused stares and glares with ease, she was a  _ Heather _ , after all. The assistant at the front desk gave Heather a minor glare as she slapped her hands down on the desk. 

“Yes, how may I help you?”

“Jason Dean.” The nurse raised a suspicious eyebrow. Heather couldn’t necessarily blame her, Heather had marched up all huffy puffy and wasn’t all smiles and rainbows, it was easy to mistake her as someone who wanted to hurt him.  _ Was that why the nurse was suspicious? Were that many people wanting to visit JD just to hurt him?  _ It was an interesting thought but Heather shoved it off before it could evoke any emotion from her. She relaxed her posture and gave the nurse a tired grin. “Sorry, long day, I’m family.”

The nurse gave a half assed grin back as she lazily pushed a clipboard towards Heather. “Room 198.” Heather nodded, picking up the pen, hastily writing down shit that would sound believable. _What would she put as a pseudonym? Heather was a big no, for it was almost certain that he had talked about her. Absentmindedly, Heather put the pen into her mouth to chew on it. Come on. Something old time-y and mother-like. _An idea came to mind. She ripped the pen out of her mouth, accidentally flinging a drop of saliva onto the paper. Quickly, she scribbled down the name _Shannen Doherty. _Filling in the rest of the blanks, Heather shoved the clipboard back to the nurse before turning on her heel and marching towards wherever JD, and most certainly Veronica, were. 

It took walking through most of the hospital, taking several turns and elevators before she finally stood in front of it. The plaque engraved with the number of 198. She took a moment to steady her shaking hand as she raised her hand and knocked loudly on the door. Expecting to see Veronica, Heather leaned back into a pose that mimicked some form of power and waited. The door opened, Veronica’s playful expression instantly sank into one of fear.

Heather shot her a glare. “ _ You just don’t like being accused, right?” _

“Heather, look, it’s not what you think it i-”

“You are literally in JD’s room”

Veronica nodded to herself. “Okay, it is exactly what you think it is.” Heather’s eyes narrowed. Veronica’s chest tightened even harder. Failed attempts at comedy only made everything worse. 

“Uh, hi? Heather, I think it was?” Veronica turned back to stare at JD with pleading eyes. Heather glared at him over Veronica’s shoulder.

“ **Shut up** .” JD nodded and finger gunned at Heather. Veronica gave him a wince and mouthed an apology to him as inconspicuously as she could before grabbing the door behind her and slamming it shut.

“What do you want?” Veronica’s voice had a twinge of annoyance to it.

Heather’s eyes widened. “You lie to Heather and I, threaten me, and are visiting JD, is it not  _ very fucking obvious _ what I want from you?” Heather air quoted ‘want’.

Veronica let out a breath through clenched teeth. Heather was right. Her lying to both of them and threatening her was entirely unnecessary, not to mention, looking back on it,  _ very _ manipulative. Veronica internally winced, she was tearing apart not only herself, but other people’s lives just to see JD. Her eyes flickered up and connected with Heather’s for a split second before focusing back on her hands. “An apology?”

“You’re gonna need more than an apology to fix this, Sawyer.” 

“I’m sorry, Heather, I really am-”

“You’re giving an apology to the wrong Heather.”

Veronica gave Heather a confused stare. “What do you mea-”

“An apology to me isn’t going to fix me and Heather’s damaged relationship, and it sure as Hell isn’t going to make me forget,  _ or forgive _ , what you have done.”

Veronica nodded. She couldn’t blame Heather, what she had done was extremely fucked up and she bound to get caught sooner rather than later. “What do you want?”

“I will let this slide on one condition,” Veronica crossed her arms, solemnly staring at the floor. If she was being honest, she did deserve all of this. Heather really hadn’t done anything to her other than try to pinpoint what was going on and dragging Heather into it to throw Heather off her trail was  _ absolutely unnecessary. _ Veronica sighed, she had really fucked up this time, it was just  _ something  _ about JD. She couldn’t resist seeing him but she couldn’t let anybody else see her with him. Well, until now. “You call Heather, and you tell her  _ everything _ , how you lied to her and I, and where you tend to spend your afternoons.” 

Veronica gave Heather a pleading look. To admit to Heather that she, in fact, had been visiting JD, and that was the reason she was acting weird? Heather would not only freak out, but  _ most definitely  _ blame herself. After all, Heather was the person who told Veronica JD was alive in the first place. For the first time in probably  _ years _ , Heather’s life was at some sort of ease, not much stress aside from Veronica going AWOL. Veronica couldn’t let Heather fall back into her circle of blaming herself for things she couldn’t control.  _ She just couldn’t. _

“So?” Heather cut across Veronica’s thoughts. Veronica’s eyes met with hers. Brown peering into even darker brown. 

“Heather, I can’t-”

“ _ Bullshit.”  _ Heather spoke through gritted teeth, her posture immediately changed to be more aggressive, as if she was ready to smack Veronica, which, at this point, Veronica could not blame her for wanting to do. 

“No,  _ listen, _ ” Veronica blew a chunk of her hair out of her face. Heather arched an eyebrow. “I will call Heather and tell her I lied about you, but,” Veronica shook her head, shuffling closer to Heather and lowering her tone of voice. “I cannot tell her about  _ this _ .” Veronica pointed vaguely in the direction of the door behind her. 

“Why not?” Heather deliberately blew air into Veronica’s face as a way to get her to back up. Veronica took a few steps back, waving a hand in front of her face to evade the smell. She smiled to herself.  _ Karma’s a bitch. _

“Before you two were friends again, she told me about JD being alive and the second I didn’t seem like myself she blamed herself, okay, Heather?” Veronica, once again, vaguely pointed in the direction of the door. “Her knowing I’m seeing him will  _ destroy _ her mental sanity, okay?” Veronica once again shuffled close to Heather, pointing a finger at her face. “You of all people should understand how fragile she can be.”

Heather’s expression remained unflinching. She moved her hand upwards and smacked Veronica’s hand down and out of her face. She pursued her lips. “I’m only letting this slide in favor of her.” Heather stuck out her hand. Wordlessly, Veronica shook it. Heather immediately turned and took off in the opposite direction.

“Heather!” Veronica called after her. Tempted to run and spin her around, but figuring Heather would most likely slap her for that, opted to shout.

Heather spun around and cocked her head. Her facial expression, still the same. 

“I’m truly sorry for pulling you into this giant mess, you and Heather, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to permanently damage your relationship.”

Heather nodded, before turning on her heel and continuing down the hall. She shouted back a phrase that made Veronica’s heart absolutely sink. “ _ I don’t forgive you.” _

. . .

Veronica’s heart pounded at the same rate as the beeps on the phone. Anxiously, she tangled and untangled her finger in the phone cord. Finally, she heard a click from the other end.

“Hello?”

“Heather, hey, it’s me, Veronica.” Veronica’s hand went limp, her finger still wrapped in the cord, as if all she could focus on was Heather’s voice, and the ever-increasing pounding of her heart.

“Veronica, what’s going on?” Heather sounded so joyous, so upbeat and happy. Veronica wanted to slap herself for how she was going to ruin her evening.

“Remember everything I told you at lunch today, about Heather threatening me?”

“Uh, yeah, it’d be pretty hard to forget.”

Veronica let out an audible exhale. If her finger wasn’t trapped in the phone cord, she would’ve rested her forehead in her hand for a moment. “I lied. About all of it.”

There was an elongated silence, where, if Veronica listened closely enough, she could hear nothing but Heather breathing.

“What?”

“So, turns out, uhm, Heather never harassed me or threatened me,” Veronica took a pause. “In the slightest.”

“Why?”

Veronica sighed, this was going to be the hardest part. 

“I don’t know why, Heather, I feel like I’m living day to day at this point and I have no grasp on what’s real anymore.” Veronica tried to run a hand through her hair, only for her hand to be slapped back down onto her bed sheets due to it being contained. Veronica groaned internally, finally unwrapping her finger and freeing it.

“I’m disappointed in you, Veronica.”

“I know. You have every single right to be, just,” Veronica absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair. “Call Heather and forgive her, don’t let my lies ruin your relationship with her.” “I’m sorry, Heather.” And with that, Veronica slammed her phone down on her receiver, feeling some of the pressure in her chest alleviate. That was three friendships she had destroyed in one day, counting Heather’s and Heather’s. 

She turned over on her side, grabbing one of her pillows from right next to her and bringing it close to her. Softly, she wrapped her arms around it and brought it close to her chest.  _ This was the first time since her hospitalization that pretending JD was there actually made her feel better. _

. . .

Heather didn’t feel anything as she returned her phone to its receiver. Solemnly, she stood up from her chair and stumbled over to her bed, tripping on a magazine on the floor and stumbling directly into it, her upper body on it, her lower body slumping off. She couldn’t even form a coherent thought. Veronica was one of the few pillars in her life that she thought she could  _ trust _ . And that pillar had just gotten knocked down for reasons Veronica didn’t even want to disclose. Heather longed for the touch of Veronica, to be wrapped in her arms and told that it would all be okay. “Everyone has problems, if you don’t, I don’t believe you’re human.” She would repeat that statement, reassuring Heather that it was perfectly normal to be upset and depressed, and that she would always be there for her. 

Veronica was now the reason she was upset, and was gone when Heather needed her most. Tears started welling in the corners of her eyes. For the first time in months, Heather felt so alone, so isolated and lonely. Desperate for anyone to swoop in and tell her it would be alright. But that one person was gone. Ripped away, turned into the jagged knife that had been thrust into her side.

As tears started to slip down her face, tumbling across her lips and tainting her taste with salt, she realized there was still someone she could call out to. She struggled to her feet, nearly crashing to the floor. Veronica was gone, and that hurt more than anyone could’ve possibly fathomed, but it didn’t mean she was entirely alone. Heather fingers pressed numbers she had remembered by heart. 

Her tears dropped almost at the rate of the buzzing.

_ Beep _ .

A tear was sliding rapidly down her face.

_ Beep. _

It pooled at the end of her cheek, threatening to spill onto her desk.

_ Beep _ . 

Heather fist absentmindedly wiped it off as she anxiously waited for an answer.

“Hello?”

“Heather?”

“Heather?”

“I need to see you, badly,” Heather’s voice was slowly getting choked up by sobs. “Please hurry.”

The other line went dead. Heather leaned back in her chair, letting the phone slip out of her hand, all energy to put it back lost.  _ It was only a matter of time _ .


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody, while going over the tags for Forgiven I realized that I never added an eating disorder trigger warning or tagged bulimia as I should've. I deeply apologize for this, as I can imagine people opened this fic for JD and Veronica and got hit with Duke's eating disorder from chapter 3 and onwards. I would like to say that I have added an eating disorder tag and trigger warning so that people know what is going. I am very sorry I didn't notice or do so sooner. Thank you, and have a wonderful night. Stay safe. <3

Heather probably broke more than a dozen driving laws hauling ass over to Heather’s house. Her voice over the phone was so frantic and depressed, it reeked of desperation,  _ and Heather knew exactly who to blame _ . Heather slammed her foot on the brake, screeching her car to a halt at a red light she couldn’t ignore. Sighing, she palmed her forehead. Did she feel bad that Heather’s misery came at the cost of her forcing Veronica to do this?  _ Fuck no.  _ Veronica brought this literally all upon herself, literally Heather wouldn’t even  _ be _ upset if Veronica hadn’t lied in the first place.

The light turned green, Heather pressed on the gas, quickly climbing back up to the speed she was going before. Though Heather did vouch for Veronica, she seemed genuinely sorry at what she had done to her, and her apology was rather compelling. It almost made Heather want to forgive her.  _ Almost _ . Heather shook her head as she slowed for a stop sign before taking a right.  _ What the fuck had JD done to her? _

Taking her foot off the gas and ripping the keys out of the ignition, Heather leapt out of the car, running up the stairs. She slammed one hand against the door as the other went to turn the knob. There was no time to waste here. The door rattled in its frame, confirming to Heather what she feared, the door was locked. She backed a few feet away from it. She used to spend most of her evenings here not too many years ago. Most of the time, during the first semester, Heather wouldn’t be home for hours due to cheer practice. Heather would always leave a key for Heather to get it.

Heather groaned as she massaged her forehead. Out of all the time for her to forget something, why did her brain pick now? She pressed her middle finger into her forehead, hoping it would help her remember faster.  _ Her memories were fuzzy, but there was one of her running up the stairs to Heather’s mansion, having had a shitty day from dealing with Heather. She quickly stuck her hand in the potted plant and ripped a key out from the dirt, sticking it into the lock. _

Heather instantly began searching for that potted plant and found it. Decomposing and lifeless, the pot it sat in eroded and cracked all over. Heather grimaced as she stuck her hand inside, feeling around for the key.

It took a moment, but finally her hand touched something that was colder than the dirt. She tightened her fingers around it and ripped it out, spilling some dirt onto Heather’s porch. She hastily wiped the key and her hand off on her sweatshirt before sticking it into the lock. It perfectly fit and with one turn, the door clicked. Heather removed the key and quickly pocketed it in her sweatpants. One hand went to the knob and the other pressed against the door as she turned it, watching as it flew open.

Heather ran inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She instantly flew up the flights of stairs she knew would lead to Heather’s bedroom. She halted before the door, softly wrapping her hands around its knob and twisting it open. Heather’s room was  _ almost _ the same as when Heather had last visited, aside from there being no light on and the floor being covered with magazines, one close to Heather’s bed was suspiciously ripped up. Heather herself was sitting in her desk chair. Heather could barely see the top blonde locks of her head, so it was more like she was slumped over. She could hear vague sobs emit from her.

Heather walked over to her, being careful to not slip on any of the magazines on the floor. Carefully, she placed a hand on Heather’s back. 

Heather’s head instantly ripped itself from her own arms. In almost an instant, Heather had launched herself from her desk into Heather’s arms. Heather took a moment to process what had happened, slowly wrapping her arms around Heather’s shaking form. Heather could feel shallow, short breaths against her neck, along with the wet sensation of tears. Heat pooled in Heather’s cheeks. Desperately not wanting to think about the inevitable, Heather tried to avert her gaze anywhere but Heather’s body. Her eyes quickly noticed the receiver to Heather’s phone hanging haphazardly off of her desk, nearly touching the floor and bringing the rest of itself down.

Slowly, Heather pushed Heather off of her, opting to wrap her arm around her shoulder. Carefully, she helped Heather through her messy room and sat her down on her bed. Heather took a second to analyze her. She was dressed in very similar attire to Heather, sweatshirts and sweatpants, however, they contrasted as Heather’s sweatshirt and pants were both shades of yellow whereas Heather’s were grey. Her face was puffy and pink, her eyes were red and still had tears protruding out of them. Her hair was messy, most of it tousled and sticking out in random places.

“It’s Veronica, isn’t it?” Heather gazed at her inquisitively.

“H-how did you know?” 

Heather walked over to Heather’s desk, picking up the receiver and putting it back onto the block. She walked back over to Heather and joined her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a hug. 

“I’m,” Heather paused for a moment, thinking of an excuse as to why she knew. Internally, she groaned, she couldn’t believe she was actually covering for Veronica. “I’m good at guessing things.”

Heather didn’t respond. She simply moved from Heather’s shoulder into Heather’s lap, cuddling herself up into a ball. Her sobs had significantly lessened, Heather noted, which she took as a good sign. Carefully, she placed a hand on Heather’s head, softly massaging her scalp with her fingers. It was oddly surreal, Heather sobbing in her lap, and Heather herself helping her. It just reminded her of the times when the roles were reversed, when she was wrapped in the safety of Heather’s arms, words softly slipping into her ears that Heather was always going to be there. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Heather made sure her voice was soft and quiet, hoping that it would aid in relaxing Heather. Heather shifted herself over so that she was on her back, looking directly into Heather’s eyes. Heather’s hand remained frozen in the air for a second before she booped Heather on the nose. She let her hand fall to her side.  _ It would be so easy to kiss Heather right now… _

Heather shook the thought away, but warmth still pooled in her cheeks. Discreetly, she scratched her nose with her hand, hoping it would cover up her obvious blushing.

“Can you stay the night?” Heather was still staring directly at Heather. Her eyes were slowly fading back to their regular color, a soft smile painted itself across her lips, as if she already knew the answer to what she asked.

“Of course,” Heather smiled back down at her. “But why?”

“I need you here.” 

Tears brimmed in the corners of Heather’s eyes as she reached out and grabbed Heather’s hand. Intertwining her fingers, she used her other free hand to cup Heather’s cheek. It was actually kind of difficult to do, considering that Heather was laying at an angle, but Heather managed.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

. . .

Veronica wasn’t sure if she was subconsciously avoiding Heather and Heather or if they were both avoiding her. Either way, distance between them was most likely for the better. Everytime Veronica and Heather had eye contact, Heather would just shoot her glares. And Heather, on the hand, would just nod at Veronica. No smile, no waving, no spark of life in eyes, just a simple nod to acknowledge her existence.

Veronica watched as smoke blew out of her mouth. It was what she deserved. All her lying, shady behavior, and nasty habits had to have consequences. Did those consequences suck? Absolutely. But every decision came with repercussions, regardless of whether or not the decision made was good or bad. 

Veronica sighed before throwing her cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. Her life was falling apart. Her smoking had never been worse, her grades had slipped out of her control, and she currently had no friends. She hadn’t showered in at least two weeks and could only imagine how matted and tangled her hair was. Maybe that was part of the reason she liked visiting JD so much, it made her feel like she was in control. After all, at any time she wanted, she could easily stop visiting him, right? Cut off all contact and go back to finishing senior year. Apologize sincerely to Heather and Heather, and go back to what was considered ‘normal’. 

But, at this point, Veronica didn’t want ‘normal’. She wanted a life that was easy, sure, but she didn’t want that life if it came at the cost of shutting JD out  _ entirely. _

“Oh, fuck.” Veronica groaned. It only hit her at this moment.  _ She had gotten reattached. _ “Fuck.” It was a jarring realization, one that made her feel weirdly exposed despite the fact that nobody was around her. She  _ didn’t _ want this. She wanted to see him, and get closure, to confirm the notion that had been pounded into her head by everyone around her, “ _ JD is a monster”.  _ But she didn’t find any of that. She expected him to be manipulative and scheming, in fact, when she first saw him she was prepared for him to give some grand speech about society or some shit.

_ But she didn’t find a monster or a scheming sociopath _ .

Instead she found fear and confusion upon their first meeting. She found apologies and sympathy that was thrown her way. Genuine expressions of joy and happiness when hearing about the good parts of their relationships, and regret and remorse at the bad parts. She found a scared 17-year old boy, whose body barely functioned due to a failed suicide attempt. She found a kid attempting to muffle his own cries after he found out that his dad had left him behind. She found JD. Not murderous, psychotic JD, but _ JD _ . The JD she originally cared for so long ago. The one who wanted to travel with her to Heather’s house to relieve her anxiety. The who got beat to shit trying to stand up for Veronica. The one who  _ wanted _ to change for her, who wanted a life with her. 

He  _ was _ changed, in a way. He had seemingly gone back to the guy Veronica was so infatuated with. And it was driving Veronica  _ insane. _ Would he stay the same throughout or would he go back to the person he was once he discharged? Was his lack of mobility and freedom to do anything the only reason he hadn’t reverted back to his psychotic tendencies? Was he putting on an act for Veronica? Veronica seriously doubted the last point. She had become so defensive and skeptical after everything went down that almost nothing went past her guard. 

What drove Veronica even more insane was the stubbornness of everyone around her being so defensive for her. Acting like they knew more than she did about JD, trying to track her down when she disappeared for one minute, insisting that  _ fucking talking _ to JD was putting everyone in danger. As she struggled to pull a hand through her hair, the anger within her died. She couldn’t blame them for being concerned, she looked like shit, reeked of smoke, and could barely run her hands past her hairline before they got tangled. But she could blame them for being so stubborn. Their refusal to believe that she had valid reasons for seeing JD, blaming it immediately on him being manipulative.

This would be a lot easier if Veronica had someone to share her thoughts with, someone who _ wouldn’t be utterly concerned for mental health and try to intervene _ . There was JD, but it was weird telling him all of this. Not to mention it would be detrimental to his mental health, knowing simply that his existence had caused her life to become completely derailed. 

There was Heather, who, once upon a time, listened valiantly to all of Veronica’s ramblings. Whether or not it was because she got to avoid Heather’s abuse towards her for a few moments Veronica would never know. 

Veronica would give Heather one thing though, she was a woman of her words. Sure, Heather was distant towards her, but it was obvious that distance came Veronica admitting she lied. Veronica hoped that one day she could make it up to both of them.

Veronica cracked her neck before standing up. She trotted down the stairs and casually walked to her car. She needed to see JD. 

. . .

Veronica knocked twice before swiftly opening the door and shutting it behind her. She stood in front of the door for a moment, her eyes briefly locking with JD’s before she broke the connection and walked over to her usual perch.

“Well, long time no see.” Veronica nodded. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It’s been a week, that’s not that lon-”

“Any time spent waiting for you to return is a long time,” The corners of Veronica’s lips twitched upward. “Especially after you had, uh, Heather, was it? Visiting you.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry I left you after that, it’s jus-”

“Before you go on a tangent, I just want to know who she is, alright? I know there’s two Heathers,” JD held up two fingers. “Who is who?”

Veronica nervously scratched the back of her head. “There’s Heather Duke and Heather McNamara. Who you met was Heather Duke.”

JD nodded. “What’s the difference between them?”

“Heather McNamara is much taller and has blonde hair, she’s also the walking embodiment of yellow,” JD cocked an eyebrow. “You’ll see what I mean when you return to Westerburg.”

“Why was she so aggressive towards you?” 

“I, uh, may have tried to tear her friendship apart so she wouldn’t come after me.”

“Come after you for what?”

“Seeing you.”

Ouch. JD’s heart sank when it heard this. Was Veronica that desperate to keep him a secret from other people? That she would tear apart other people’s relationships? Not only was that a shitty thing to do, he personally was upset that Veronica would go that far. He was a person, right? He didn’t need to be kept under lock and key, hidden in the closet, tucked under the rug, right? Sure, he could understand her not wanting to parade around the fact that she was visiting him, but to go that far just to make sure her cover isn’t blown kind of hurt him internally. 

JD trilled through his lips, some of the air hitting his hair and blowing it upwards. Veronica smiled at the sight.

“So, what happened after you shut the door?”

“I apologized to her, she rejected my apology, she told me she’d let all this slide if I called Heather and told her that I was the reason their relationship fell apart, and then she walked off.”

“How is Heather now?”

“I,” Veronica paused for a moment. “I don’t know, she avoids me, though, I think being with Heather makes her happy.”

“You don’t have anyone besides me, do you?”

Veronica sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Nope.” She locked eyes with JD. They both shared a wordless stare for a few moments before Veronica threw her back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

“Why did you come back?”

Veronica snorted at his question. “What do you mean?”

“That was your wake-up call Veronica, that was your chance to let me go, and go back to living life the way it was, why didn’t you take it?”

Pulling her head forward, she gazed at JD. His eyes were trained on his hands, which were currently interlocked, his thumbs fumbling over themselves continuously. 

“Because I,” Veronica fumbled on her words, struggling to find the right thing to say. JD's eyes darted up to look at her. “I,” She shrugged, shaking her head.

“Why? You could’ve gone back to normal life with all of your friends,” Veronica shook her head. JD seemingly ignored it. “I would be fine, just wh-”

“Because I don’t want a normal life if you’re not in it, okay?!” Veronica immediately covered her mouth with her hands. She hadn’t meant for that to get out, she just,  _ she couldn’t just leave JD _ . It wasn’t going to work like that. 

JD, on the other hand, stared at her in awestruck, a light pink hue graced upon both his cheeks. 

“I-I,” Veronica stood up, shaking her head rapidly. “I should go.”

“Yeah.” JD nodded, half in agreement, half out of not knowing what else to say.

Veronica opened the door to leave. “Hey, uhm,” She turned to face him. “ _ Come back,  _ okay?” JD’s face was flushed, his voice was slightly quieter. Veronica felt heat running to her face. She formed a sweet smile as she turned back around and walked out. She softly closed the door behind her. 

_ She would always come back. _


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, in less chapters and more words, I have gotten past the point where the original Forgiven was, this is amazing

Veronica’s teeth gritted as she struggled to pull her hair brush through the middle of her head. It would start to move a centimeter or two before getting caught in the tangles and giving Veronica a searing pain to remind her of the importance of daily hygiene. If she was being honest, she was half tempted to give up and cut it all off, rock a pixie cut or something. She actually would’ve gone for it if she hadn’t known that this was reversible.

_ Heather yanked the brush through the middle part of Veronica’s head, emitting a small yelp from her. Heather sighed in disappointment as she lifted the brush above her head and set it down in a different place to do the same thing again.  _

_ “Sawyer, how the hell did you let your hair get this bad?” The question was rhetorical and condescending. Giving Heather a genuine reply guaranteed more insults. At least, it would’ve. Veronica would never know. She just responded with a quiet sorry and another yelp as Heather continued to yank the brush through her tangled hair. _

Veronica shook her head rapidly, trying to shake off any and all memories of Heather. She didn’t want to think about Heather. She didn’t want to think about the past. She just wanted to untangle her hair so she could run her hand through it without it getting stuck. Angrily, she pulled with force on the brush, receiving its movement down her scalp about an inch and tons of nerves responding with burning pains. It would be worth it to move on,  _ it would be worth it to move on.  _ Veronica kept repeating that in her head. It motivated her.  _ It would be worth it to move on. _

. . .

It took a dreadfully long two hours, but once Veronica ripped the final tangle from her hair, she had never felt more in control. Satisfaction ran through her as her hand glided through her locks of hair and came out behind her shoulder blade. Veronica let out a small sigh of relief as she turned the knob to her shower, feeling the blaring cold water hit her hand as she yanked it out. 

. . .

It was a relaxing feeling, being able to slam her body into her bed without the feeling of laziness and dirtiness washing over her. It was soothing and calm to finally be able to run her fingers through her scalp, feeling softness and smoothness instead of rough, dry locks of hair. It was relieving to run a hand across her cheek and feel hydrated, smooth skin, instead of rough, dry skin. But above all, it was nice to take in a breath of air and not have her nostrils fill with the smell of cigarettes. For the first time in three weeks, Veronica was able to turn on her side and close her eyes without constant thoughts running through her mind as she tried to sleep.

. . .

Veronica surprised everyone by coming to school early and not looking like total shit. She had on an indigo blazer and a knee-length black skirt. To the untrained eye, one would’ve thought she was dressed up. To Heather, Veronica just looked eerily similar to how she did when the Heathers were together. Maybe that was Veronica’s goal. Heather didn’t know what to think, and if she was being honest, she didn’t want to think about it. Veronica was virtually dead to her and Heather. Heather had turned a cold shoulder to her, desperately awaiting an apology or a genuine conversation, and Heather, well, she didn’t necessarily hate Veronica, but she thought Veronica’s actions were stupid.

If Heather was being fully honest, she was going to just continue to ignore Veronica. Sure, it gave her a few shivers to see Veronica in the same outfit she donned six months ago, back when Heather was still alive, and JD was just “Billy the kid’” to all of them, but she could easily brush that off.

She could easily brush off Heather off-handedly remarking that Veronica looked  _ exactly _ the same as she did in September. 

She could even brush off the negative feelings that came with the fact that the blazer Veronica was wearing was the same blazer she wore when she insulted her bulimia. Telling her “Aw, thanks Heather! But I don’t really have to vomit right now!” Her voice slurred from being slightly drunk, but her statement was as harsh and clear as ever. Heather had an air-tight grip on Veronica and Veronica was letting Heather’s cruel tendencies wash over her. 

Heather, however, couldn’t ignore Heather’s longing looks, the quick flicks of her eyes, patiently waiting and hoping that since Veronica had  _ seemingly _ gotten it together, that she would come and apologize. Heather also couldn’t ignore Martha, who ran up to Veronica and gave her a hug, a hug which Veronica reluctantly returned before engaging in casual conversation. From the corner of her eye, Heather saw all of Veronica’s ticks and flinches, the way that she avoided eye contact or hyperfocused on her hand when Martha accidentally got too close. She saw Veronica subtly push Martha away and encourage her to go back to the cafeteria, before darting out the front door. 

Heather sat her plastic fork down on her untouched food and stood up, dismissing Heather’s confused glances with a wave of hand, and quickly following Veronica outside. 

Veronica was at her usual perch, the tenth step, back hunched, arms spread over her knees. Heather watched from the top of the stairs, arms crossed, a slight grimace across her face. “You know, smoking is against school policy.”

Veronica waved her arm over her shoulder, showing that her hand was empty. “Good thing I’m not smoking.”

Heather bit back a smirk. She took a seat next to Veronica. Veronica scooted away slightly. Heather pretended not to notice. “What’s the occasion?” Veronica gave Heather a questioning look. “You don’t look like complete shit, so,” Heather gestured to Veronica’s outfit. “Something’s going on.”

Veronica shook her head, letting out a small chuckle. She took a moment, gazing at the black marks on the asphalt before she turned to face Heather. 

“Why are you here?” Veronica shook her head even faster. “Why do you care? You have Heather, you know about,  _ that _ , what do you want?”

Heather pursued her lips, nodding slightly. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume you didn’t take my advice,”

Veronica rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. She shook her head slightly before returning eye contact with Heather.

Heather nodded, rolling her tongue over her teeth, contemplating what to say next. “Why?”

“Why?” Veronica repeated in an exasperated tone. “Heather, I know it may come as a surprise to you, but you didn’t know JD like I did-and you still don’t know anything about him!” Veronica angrily ran a hand through her hair. “What’s his favorite color, Heather, huh?” Veronica threw her hands up in the air.

Heather swallowed a smirk at Veronica’s question. “Black?”

Veronica pointed a finger at Heather’s face, her face contorted into a small smile that she was trying her best to swallow. She set her hand back down on her lap. “Red. And that’s not the point,” Heather smirked before putting her hands up. “He’s a different person, Heather, okay? He’s not the same as before, he’s changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

Veronica eyed Heather, lips spread slightly to bare teeth, as if she was ready to fight on this issue. “I said the same thing about you, and yet you proved me wrong.”

“He almost killed everyone in our school.”

“And you almost killed Heather.”

Ouch. Veronica might as well have just shoved a knife into her chest. Heather’s chest began to contract slowly, making it feel like it was harder to breathe. She couldn’t even rebuke Veronica’s point; Heather was a direct cause in Heather’s suicide attempt. But, she was different! She had relentlessly worked on herself and re-evaluated her desires in life. She wanted nothing more than Heather’s forgiveness and friendship! Afterall, she was- _ “Oh.” _ Realization washed over Heather.

“Maybe you should talk to him, it’ll help you see what I mean.” Veronica elbowed Heather, flashing her a shit-eating grin.

“Are you sure he won’t kill me or something?”

“Heather, he’s strapped to bed and can barely move his arms,” Veronica leaned in slightly closer and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think he’s going to kill you.”

Heather raised her hands again. “Alright, alright, I’ll consider it,” Veronica leaned back, crossing her arms in the process. “But while I’m here, you should talk to Heather.”

Veronica’s posture slumped at once. Her arms fell into her lap and her eyes glazed over. “Does she even want to talk to me?”

Heather gave Veronica a stare. A stare that read, “Are you seriously asking me that?”. She continued to stare at Veronica for a moment before raising her left hand and using it to slap Veronica across the face. Veronica’s face was instantly moved in Heather’s direction. 

“What the fuck, Heather!” One of Veronica’s hands immediately flew up to massage her cheek. There was a slight redness forming. Heather just crossed her arms and stared. “What was that for?”

“I’m slapping some sense into you,” Heather shook her head. “Of course she still wants to talk to you! She cares so fucking much about you it’s ridiculous!”

Veronica stopped massaging her cheek for a moment to peer at Heather. “Wait, she does?”

“Yes!” Heather shouted in an exasperated tone. “She’s just waiting for  _ you _ , the person who wronged her, to make a fucking apology!” 

“Gee,” Veronica combed a hand through her hair. “I guess we were both wrong, huh?”

“Yeah, sure.” Heather fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Thanks for telling me, Heather,” Veronica gave Heather a half-smile. “I’m still sorry about what I did.”

Heather pressed her lips into a fine line. To say she was over what Veronica did would be a lie. She shook her head before exhaling softly. “It’s whatever.”

Veronica wordlessly stuck out her hand. Heather gazed at it, her eyes flickering up to meet Veronica’s for a second before she took it, gripping it tightly. 

If Veronica was certain Heather wouldn’t slap her for it, she would’ve pulled her into a hug. 

. . .

The door creaked open, a slow, low creaking noise, followed by its even slower shut. Footsteps hastily walked over to where the only chair in the room was. JD licked his lips, keeping his eyes closed. “You’re not Veronica, are you?” 

Whoever else was in the room made a tsk sound in reply, as if they were biting back laughter. He opened his eyes. Directly across from him was Heather, or, at least, one of them. It seemed to be Duke, considering that she wasn’t ‘the living embodiment of yellow’. The dim lighting in the room made it hard to discern her features. Her hair seemed to be black, considering that it practically faded into the darkness. Her skin was tan to an extent, and her eyes were a dark brown. She had on a light green blazer and what seemed to be black pants. JD couldn’t exactly see down that far.

“Hi, Heather.”

“JD.” The lack of warmth in her tone made JD shiver. It was so similar to how Veronica used to respond to him. Barking and immediate replies, with lack of tone and warmth. He didn’t want to go through all of that again.

“So, how have I personally wronged you?” 

Heather pursued her lips. She leaned back in the chair, crossing both her legs and her arms. “Right after you and Veronica broke up, you made a petition that you handed off to me, of which I got everyone at our school to sign,” Heather paused for a moment, absentmindedly scratching her nose. “Little did I know, that was supposed to be the entire school’s suicide note.”

JD took a moment and let the information sink in. He knew he had made a petition and had gotten someone to get everyone to sign it, but the police refused to tell him who it was. Sitting in front of him, arms crossed, posture straight, was that very person. JD couldn’t even imagine the amount of trust issues he gave her. To have been handed a simple petition and then to find out that that could’ve been your own suicide note was, terrifying. JD sighed. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, but laced with sincerity. He wished he could’ve done more to make up for what he had, but with his body useless and practically chained to a bed, the best he could do was use his words, which he had long ago weaponized and used to harm others, and use them to help those he harmed heal.

Heather looked slightly taken aback by his apology, her posture broke slightly and her arms dropped into her lap. She shook her head before shrugging softly. “We all have negative experiences with each other.”

Confused, JD stared at her, hoping that somehow, she would be able to instantly know what his stare meant and explain her statement. She just stared back at him with a face of anticipation. “Pardon?”

Heather’s face instantly scrunched up as she slapped her palm against her forehead. “Oh, right, the memory thing,” She muttered to herself. “You’re gonna find out that none of us are as put together as we seem,” Heather shook her head. “Especially not Veronica.”

“I-“ JD started, cutting himself off immediately. Was it really a good idea to let Heather know that he already knew about Veronica’s meltdowns? Heather seemed friendly enough, but he had no idea what she did outside of his room. He simply nodded, hoping that lack of light in the room would hide the anxiety that was openly displayed on his face.

“Mm.” Heather hummed, moving one of her arms to rest on the arm of the chair, resting her head on top of that. She closed her eyes, letting the darkness of the room bring her to a relaxed state.

“Why,” JD muttered, in the darkness, Heather’s eyes fluttered open. She didn’t move a muscle or flinch as she stared at him. “Why are you here?”

Heather pursued her lips, moving her head back up and returning her arms to a crossed position. Softly exhaling, she shrugged. “I’m taking some advice.”

“Oh.” JD’s heart fluttered softly, his lips involuntarily curved into a smile that he quickly covered with his hand. He didn’t know exactly what Heather meant by her statement, but if she meant what he thought she did? Heat pooled in JD’s cheeks as Veronica’s words ran through his mind. Veronica truly meant what she said, she wanted him in her life and was even willing to convince the minds of others to keep it that way. The thought took his breath away. His heart skipped a beat.

Heather inhaled sharply before dropping her hands to her legs. Leaning forward, she rapidly looked around the room at various things, shaking her head in disappointment at the things she observed. “Jesus, do you just lie here all day?”

“Besides my therapies? Yeah, pretty much.”

“Jesus Christ.” Heather plopped her back into the back of the chair. She gave him a questioning stare. “Do you like to read?”

“Uh, uhm,” JD stuttered, stumbling on his words as they attempted to vomit out of his mouth. He  _ loved _ reading, it was one of his first hobbies, one that stuck with him from his elementary days all the way into high school. He bit his lip and silently cursed himself for his lack of remembering what he was reading the first day of senior year… when he first met Veronica. “Yes.” He exhaled, a bright smile plastered across his face.

“Okay, well, I tend to read a lot of literature and have a ton of books I don’t need.” Heather gave JD a smirk, one that he happily returned. “You wouldn’t mind if I dropped them off here, would you?”

JD let out a hearty laugh, one that invigorated the room and made it  _ feel _ brighter, despite the lack of lighting change. Heather’s face involuntarily formed a smile upon hearing his laugh before she let out a small chuckle of her own.

…

Veronica didn’t bother to phone Heather before driving over. Hell, she didn’t even drive home first. Once the final bell for school tolled, releasing the students, Veronica simply hopped in her car and drove straight to Heather’s mansion. Her feet pounded against the dirt, up the stone stairs, and halted at the door. Veronica inhaled sharply before raising a fist and pounding it against the door. It was a nervous couple of minutes that Veronica spent pacing back and forth, desperately thinking of something to say. It was at this moment that Veronica realized how underprepared she was. She had turned on her heel and was about to flee down the stairs when the door creaked open behind her.

“Veronica?”

Veronica froze, slowly turning back around to catch a glimpse of Heather. Heather had on a yellow tank top and black sweatpants. Her hair was slightly tousled but still maintained a natural flow. Veronica forced a smile to come across her face as she fully turned around and took a step forward. “Hehy,” Veronica fumbled on her words, attempting to both laugh and speak at the same time. Nervously, she ran a hand through her hair.

Without warning, Heather leaped from the doorway onto Veronica. She tightly wrapped her arms around Veronica’s shoulder and shoved her chin into Veronica’s collar bone. Veronica took a moment to regain her footing before she smiled softly and returned the hug.

After a few moments, Heather pushed herself away from Veronica. She motioned towards the open door. “Come in.”

It wasn’t until Veronica was inside of Heather’s bedroom did it hit her that she still had no idea what to say. Heather flopped onto her bed, reaching over and pulling a magazine off of the end table. She turned on her side as she started rapidly flipping through the pages. Veronica just stood in the doorway. Anxiety coursing through her veins, making it extremely hard to move. 

Eventually, Veronica shook her head, quelling a bit of her anxiety and moving to sit on the bed with Heather. Heather peered at her from under the magazine. As soon as Veronica made eye contact with her, Heather’s eyes darted back up to the magazine.

“So,” Veronica broke the silence. “I guess I should start from the top.”

Heather glanced at Veronica before tossing the magazine over her head and somehow, to Veronica’s awe, managing to land it on the bedside table. Heather quickly pulled herself forward, pulling her legs to a crossed formation. She rested her hands in her lap. “Yeah, you probably should.” Heather’s voice had an underlying tone that Veronica couldn’t exactly place. It felt weirdly superior, but not in a negative way. It felt like Heather knew exactly what Veronica was going to say. It actually kinda weirded Veronica out. Just how much was Heather rubbing off on Heather?

“Well,” Veronica fumbled with her hands. The more she tried to form words in her mind the more they collapsed and faded into the background. It wasn’t going to be easy to tell Heather that her visiting JD was the result of all her shady behavior. Veronica could already imagine Heather’s sobbing form leaning onto her shoulder for support. Was honesty really worth breaking Heather’s sanity? Veronica bit her lip. If she got Heather to do it, Heather would just be more devastated that Veronica herself couldn’t tell her. Every outcome for this situation seemed like a disaster. The least damaging approach would be to just be upfront and honest. 

_ Honest. _

Sadly, Veronica smiled to herself, shaking her head. Once, so long ago, that was one of Veronica principles, something she always held herself to. To be upfront and honest, always speak the truth even if it meant terrible repercussions. That was, of course, before she started living a lie. Before the lies she spoke were the only thing keeping her alive and out of police custody. Eventually it caught up to her when she screamed what she had done in front of the entire school.  _ When they didn’t believe her, as if Veronica wasn’t the same classmate who openly told them things nobody else wanted to. _

_ Honesty _ .

So desperately, she wanted to regain her ability to be honest. To be able to simply tell Heather about what was actually going on, or to be open about her emotions. Things just weren’t as simple anymore. To be honest about her emotions would net Veronica concern and attention, something she had been so  _ desperate _ to shake off, especially after joining the Heathers.

Veronica let out a sigh. This was the moment, she couldn’t run away or cower from her past any longer. She needed to let the ones who cared about her the most know what was going on. “I’ve been seeing JD.”

“Fuck.” Simple. Brash. Crass. Veronica had to turn her head and observe Heather just to make sure that she was still talking to the same person. Heather was resting her head on her arms, looking at Veronica with an expression that was,  _ surprisingly lax _ for someone who just got what should’ve been a bombshell dropped on her. Heather noticed Veronica’s stare and shrugged, pulling one of her legs up and snaking an arm around it before pulling her entire body up. 

“How-” Veronica started, her voice barely raised above a whisper. She wanted to be honest to others, but in this case, she didn’t really want to know why Heather wasn’t surprised by this.

“Veronica, I am not that stupid. I knew something was going on with you, but you always dismissed my concern, telling me that it was just a rough night or that your parents were being overly strict,” Veronica’s eyes flickered down to her hands, now that she thought about it, Veronica was  _ really _ shitty at coming up with excuses to deflect people’s concern. “So, when you started acting weird and dismissed me again, I thought it would be like every other time, where you have a meltdown but pull through it.” Heather shook her head. “But it wasn’t. You totally wigged out, skipping school, not showering, smoking?” Veronica winced. “I notice this shit, Veronica, I just didn’t bring it up because I thought you could handle it, because you  _ always _ do.” Heather sighed. “But then you went off the rails. I trusted you when you said Heather was bothering you because I so desperately wanted a reason for why you were acting the way you were, because I knew you weren’t going to tell me upfront, so I trusted you, and you broke that trust.”

“Heather, I am so sorry-”

“Shh.” Heather pressed a finger against Veronica’s mouth. “I’m not done. I’m sorry too, I knew something was going on and I let it get as big as it did. I’m sorry that I knew you were suffering and did nothing about it. Okay? You’re sorry that you broke my trust and I’m sorry that I forced you into a position where you thought the only thing you could do was lie.”

Veronica reached out to grab Heather’s hand, intertwining it with her own. Several emotions coursed through Veronica at the motion. Relief was the biggest one for sure, but confusion was pretty high up there. How could Heather blame herself for Veronica’s own selfish actions? 

“Heather, I-”

“Veronica, save the speech, I’m just glad to have you back.” And with that, Heather pulled Veronica into a hug. Heather buried herself in Veronica’s neck. There were several things that Heather enjoyed about giving Veronica a hug. How Veronica would always take a moment to respond. How Veronica would always hug back even tighter. How Veronica’s breathing became uneven against Heather’s neck. How Veronica smelled like coconut. But above all, Heather just enjoyed having Veronica back.

Eventually, they both pulled away, with Heather flopping onto her back and Veronica sheepishly scratching the back of her head. 

“So, uhm, about JD-”

“I’m going to trust you on this, as long as you’re being honest to me about everything, I’m going to trust your judgement on JD.” Heather pulled a leg up into the air and wrapped her arms around it. “Besides, I never really got to know him like you did, so I don’t think it would be fair for me to judge.”

Veronica exhaled a soft laugh. Heather didn’t react in the way Veronica expected at all and, if Veronica was being honest, she didn’t even know what to expect. She was just glad to have a friend back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for your patience btw,,,,, my dad had surgery so I have been,,,,,,, not having a good time 0-0   
i love you all, goodnight!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i went through a really bad depressive episode so im sorry if the ending of this is a little shit and for the really long wait
> 
> yes this is still an active fic 
> 
> surprisingly

There were a lot of things Veronica didn’t expect when walking into JD’s hospital room. Each visit was a different experience. Some days he would be happy, words easily trickled out of his mouth about various topics and things he wished to do once he was discharged. He would gladly engage in the things Veronica was talking about. On those days, they both often made plans to do various things once he was free. Other days he had little energy and merely listened to Veronica talk about her day, adding in the odd sarcastic comment or joke. Even if his joke fell completely flat or her sarcasm went over his head, she still found herself emitting a small chuckle or snort. Some days, however, JD was either asleep or entirely out of it. During those days, Veronica would simply just sit in the room with him, blanketing herself in the silence and enjoying his company all the while.

Opening his hospital door to see him happily in bed reading, with a pile of books that nearly reached his bedside beside him was something Veronica did not expect. He quickly lowered the book and gave her a small wave and smile. Veronica’s face automatically smiled back in reply. 

Sinking into her chair, she waved at the pile of books. “Where’d those come from?” Veronica was almost absolutely sure she knew the answer, but the look of joy on JD’s face just from her acknowledging the books made it a valid question in her mind.

“Heather,” JD nodded, pausing for a second. “She stopped by and we talked.” Veronica noticed a small blush forming on his face. “And uh, she gave me her books that she didn’t want anymore.” He shifted his gaze towards the cover of the book he was reading. “Thank you.”

Veronica cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

JD didn’t reply, he simply beamed at her, a soft red glow spread across his cheeks. He proceeded to ignore her question, instead opting to talk about the various books Heather had brought. They talked for hours about Baudelaire, Moby Dick, Shakespeare, and other classic literature novels. Making quips and insulting jokes about works they didn’t like and stupid defenses for the ones they did like.

The question still remained in Veronica’s mind.

. . .

Heather absentmindedly twisted the telephone cord around her index finger as she waited for Heather to pick up. It took two rings before an audible click was heard and Heather's jubilant voice rang out.

“Heather! Hey!”

“Hey, how are you?”

“Great, actually, Veronica came by and we talked.”

Surprise ran through Heather. Heather wasn’t upset? At all? “That’s fantastic, Heather.” A smile formed on Heather’s face.

“Yeah,” Heather’s voice had a sort of hanging onto it. As if she wanted to tell Heather something but didn’t know how to say it. “Uhm,” An audible sigh was heard along with shuffling. “Did you know that Veronica has been seeing JD?”

Heather let out a small snort. “How do you think this giant mess started, Heather?” She let out a small chuckle. “I caught her.”

Heather gasped. “You bitch,” It sounded negative but Heather knew that Heather wasn’t being serious. “You knew this entire time and you didn’t tell me? Why?”

“Reasons,” Heather nodded to herself, trying to avoid the question entirely. “Veronica asked me not to.”

“Why?”

Heather let out a small sigh, rubbing her nose with her finger. “Okay, am I Veronica?”

“No.”

“So, since I’m not Veronica, I don’t have the answer you want, yes?”

There was a brief pause before Heather grumbled back a reply. “Yes.”

“Great! Glad we cleared that up.” Heather didn’t have a reply for that. Instead, she remained silent. Inadvertently making Heather feel guilty. She didn’t want to be the one who told Heather that her best friend thought she was weak. Hell, she didn’t want to be the bearer of anything. For three solid years Heather had been nothing but a lapdog, a messenger, a second-in-command. If she could break that cycle by making people  _ fucking _ talk to each other, than she was damn well going to do it. 

Beyond all that, however, Heather  _ really _ didn’t want to admit that she agreed with Veronica. She was surprised that Heather was so upbeat about the entire situation, it made her deeply regret the promise she made with Veronica. Looking back on it, Heather regretted it.  _ She should’ve known better. Heather isn’t weak. _

“I’ve seen him, actually.” Heather broke the silence, subtly shifting the topic off of Veronica and onto JD.

“Really? What’s he like?”

“Uh,” Heather scratched the back of her head. “He likes to read, I gave him a few of my books.”

“A ‘few’.” Heather repeated, the statement dripping with subtle sarcasm. 

“Look, they were either going to rot on my bookshelf or go to the dumpster.”    
Heather let out a giggle at Heather’s protest. The corners of Heather’s lips perked up into a smile. Heather’s laugh just  _ always _ managed to make her smile. 

“He’s not homicidal, from what I can tell.”

“Well, that’s a good sign.” 

Heather stifled a laugh. “Yeah.”

A moment of silence. Shuffling was heard from Heather’s end.

“I’d like to see him.”

Heather feverishly bit her lip. JD seemed perfectly fine when she visited but she had no idea how he’d react to another visitor, let alone another Heather. She rapidly shook her head. She desperately wanted to say no, to tell Heather to give it just a little more time, yet she knew that no matter what she said, Heather would still find a way to go.  _ But maybe… _ “Ask Veronica about it.” If Heather would listen to anyone, it would be Veronica. Not only would she be the only person capable of stopping Heather, she knew more about JD than either of them combined. 

“Okay! See you later!” And with a click, Heather had hung up the phone. 

Heather took a moment to process what had just happened. Heather hung up on her? Why? Why so suddenly? It was only after Heather had put the receiver back did she realize that Heather hung up to call Veronica.

. . .

Returning to school after making peace with both Heather and Heather felt like heaven. Instead of spending lunch isolating herself outside, Veronica was welcomed back to sit with them. In the  _ busy, crowded, and very loud cafeteria.  _ Veronica wasn’t sure what made her more anxious, staring at the scorch marks of where JD almost died, encasing her in guilt about the life she could’ve had, or sitting in a cafeteria  _ surrounded _ by noise, something that threw her straight back into her days with the Heathers. At least sitting outside, Veronica could openly be miserable. There was nobody to see it. In the cafeteria, the only way to escape without people openly throwing sympathy towards her was to put on a facade. And Veronica hated putting on facades.

So, she decided to be upfront and honest. Openly speak her mind. The days of her beaming a smile as she walked out of the cafeteria to engage in self-destructive behavior were gone. She told both Heathers that if they wanted too, they could join her outside on the stairs. Heather almost immediately jumped up, ready to follow. Heather, on the other hand, was more hesitant. It was obvious that it was Heather driving her to follow Veronica.

Of course, once they were outside, Heather held nothing back in terms of complaints.

“This  _ sucks _ .” It had only been ten minutes, and Heather was ready to dart back inside and embrace the heat that Westerburg provided. Shivering, Heather attempted to pull her skirt down a little bit lower. Upon failing, she crossed her legs and sighed deeply.

“Yeah, yeah.” Veronica brushed off Heather’s complaint with a wave of her hand, emitting a middle finger from her in reply.

Veronica just smirked as Heather gawked at the two. Heather was just happy Veronica didn’t make a condescending insult about her problems.

“I’m being serious, how do you sit out here all the time? It’s  _ freezing _ .”

“Maybe you’re just not used to the cold.”

“You’re right,” Heather nodded, extending a finger in Veronica’s direction. “When I go to sulk,” She pointed the finger in her direction. “I do it in the school bathroom.” Heather jutted her thumb towards the building behind them. Veronica rolled her eyes. Heather cocked a concerned eyebrow.

“Heather,” Heather’s voice was low and whispery. “I left something inside, could you come with me?” She gestured towards the building.

Heather knew where this was leading. She knew Heather saw through everything. She didn’t want to talk about her problems. Acknowledging them only made them worse. It made her feel flawed. Not to mention, Heather was practically planning her therapy session in front of Veronica, who was also very, _ very _ persistent in getting people to vent. Softly, she sighed, shaking her head.

“Why? It’s lunch, what could you  _ possibly _ need?” 

Veronica eyed both of them, sharing a semi-confused look with Heather, and an eye roll with Heather. Heather mentally flipped off Veronica.

Heather sighed. She reached down towards her foot, grabbing a hold of her shoe. Before Heather could even process what she was doing, Heather had ripped her shoe off her foot and tossed it behind her. The shoe smacked against the door with a loud clang before smacking against the ground with a satisfying plastic thud.

Excitedly, she turned towards Heather, a giddy smile plastered across her face. “My shoe.”

Without letting Heather even get a word in, she stood up and swiftly walked up the stairwell.

Veronica looked at Heather before immediately bursting out laughing. She slapped a hand over her mouth to silence the noise. Within a second, she had suppressed the laughter. She shrugged at Heather before motioning with her thumb towards the therapy session waiting at the top of the stairwell. 

Heather rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing ever-so quietly. She hastily made her way up the stairs and right into Heather’s presence.

Heather reached out and grabbed one of Heather’s hands, her fingers softly running over the scabs on her knuckles. She pulled Heather closer to the doorway. Heather pulled her hands closed, examining the scabs. Heather yanked her hands away before shoving them in the pockets of her blazer.

Heather’s hands found themselves cupped in each other. “Heather,” Her voice was soft and warm. It  _ almost _ made Heather want to talk. To spill her feelings about everything. How she felt like the only release from her eternal self-hatred was death. How confused she felt about JD. Her mixed feelings on Veronica.  _ Her feelings for her. _ But alas, Heather knew it was far better to say less than to say too much, no matter how welcoming the other person seemed.

“Look, Heather,” Heather removed a hand from her pocket, raising it to silence Heather. “I’m fine, okay?”

Heather tilted her face to the right slightly, cocking her chin up. Her eyes half-lidded and her lips pressed in a thin line. Her eyebrows perfectly straight. Heather knew this face all too well. It was Heather’s “I know you’re lying to me” face. 

Heather’s hand faltered under her gaze. “I have been getting better, I swear, it’s just,” Heather paused, desperately thinking of the right thing to say. “These things aren’t easy.” Heather’s face returned back to its regular position. She slowly nodded. “I don’t,” It should’ve been easy to say it. So easy. To just talk about how difficult it was to recover from something that was a major part of her life. 

_ It should’ve been easy the first time. When Heather found her hunched over a toilet, fingers halfway down her throat. Heather’s eyes ran over her, her lips twisted into a disgusted grimace. Instead of sympathy and kindness to Heather’s pain. Heather forced Heather to her feet and slapped her, telling her to “get a grip!”. _

_ It should’ve been easy the second time, when they were both there. The Heather that cared and the Heather that didn’t. The one that simply told her to “grow up.” and the Heather that told her to see a doctor. And then came the guidance counselor that didn’t care. It should’ve been easy, but instead of caring, she found Ms. Flemming doubting her problems, brushing them off as a lie to get the Heathers out of class. _

_ It should’ve been easy the third time, when they had a new face. Someone who seemingly hated Heather as much as she did. Someone who was more resilient and vocal about Heather’s assholery. Someone who was so quick to call out Heather’s abuse towards her friend. How that same face took her problem and made it into a joke for the entirety of Westerburg’s elites to enjoy. _

It should’ve been easy, but it wasn’t. And it hurt to let go of what she had been taught so far. 

_ Keep it suppressed, or it’ll just get ignored. _

Heather absentmindedly ran a hand across her face, noting the liquid that came onto her fingers. Taking a deep breath, Heather fixated her eyes at the ground. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” Her eyes flicked up to meet with Heather’s. Heather was slowly nodded to herself, her lips pursed in a slight pout and her eyebrows knitted together. 

Heather shook her head. This conversation was going nowhere. All she was doing was dumping her problems onto someone who had no idea how to help. “Look, forget this conversation, okay? I,” Heather sighed, dropping her gaze to the ground. “This isn’t  _ that _ important.”

Heather heard Heather sighing. It was a long, defeated sigh. One that indicated that she knew that no matter how hard she fought with Heather on this issue, she wasn’t going to easily change her mind. 

Heather was halfway through turning around to return to Veronica when Heather thudded into her side, wrapping her arms around Heather’s form and hugging her tightly. Heather’s breath hitched upon being hugged. She slowly wrapped her arms around Heather the best she could. 

“Never apologize for being human.” Heather whispered in her ear, her breath the only warm thing against her face. Tears began forming in Heather’s eyes. She buried her face in Heather’s shoulders as a way to masquerade them. Heather nuzzled her neck as a reply.

“I love you.” It was soft and super quiet, quiet enough that Heather was almost certain it was the wind blowing through her ear. But wind wasn’t hot, and it didn’t make oddly specific words. Did Heather really mean that? A blush crept itself across her face. Her heart began to race. Her breathing began to quicken. And as soon as Heather thought it, she debunked it. Heather was overly-affectionate with everyone. She probably threw love around like any other four letter word. That didn’t make the way she said it mean any less to Heather, but it hurt internally to know that Heather most definitely didn’t mean it in the way Heather wished she did.

Heather pulled away. The cold air whipped over Heather’s skin, making her desperately wish Heather would come back. She refused to meet Heather’s gaze. Instead, her arms flew up to cuddle each other, hoping to retain what little warmth was left. Heather leaned down. Something soft and warm pressed against her cheek. And almost as soon as it was there, it was gone. Heather trotted back down the stairs to rejoin Veronica, leaving Heather there.

It took Heather a moment to realize that it was Heather’s lips that had been pressed against her cheek. 

It took Heather several minutes to rejoin them. Even when she did, she couldn’t stop the brush from creeping up onto her face. Occasionally, she’d glance at Heather. And if she looked hard enough, she could see the remnants of a red blush.

Veronica clapped her hands, surprising Heather out of her fixation. Her eyes flickered up to Veronica.

“Alright so, when are both of you free?”

. . .

The door swiftly opened, stayed open for a second longer than per usual, and slammed shut. Three pairs of footsteps marched in. JD lowered the book down, sliding his hand in the middle of it to bookmark his page. Veronica placed herself in her usual perch, Heather positioned herself against the counter to the right of Veronica. To the left of Veronica was a new face. Someone who looked so familiar to JD and yet, so foreign. 

His eyes scanned up and down her body. Blonde hair, a bright yellow blouse, and pale yellow tights underneath a white skirt. He raised a finger, taking a moment to appreciate that it didn’t rapidly shake like before, and pointed it in her direction.

“Let me guess,” JD faked a thinking face, squinting his eyes and biting his lip. Veronica let out a small chuckle at it. “McNamara.” He dropped his expression and his finger. Heather let out a small laugh as she nodded quickly.

“Yes!” Her laughter stifled abruptly. She cocked her head at him. “How did you know?”

“‘Living embodiment of yellow’.” JD airquoted. Heather’s jaw dropped as she let out a small “Ugh”. Her head slowly turned, and once her gaze was onto Veronica, she made sure to glare.

“Thanks, Veronica.” Heather attempted to stifle a small laugh. JD peered at her, she peered back before clearing her throat and regaining her stoic face.

“Sorry?” It sounded half-sarcastic and half genuine. Heather jokingly punched her in the shoulder. Veronica rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to JD. He motioned towards his hand, smiling widely upon showing that he could lift them without shaking.

Veronica flashed a toothy grin before giving him a thumbs up. She pretended to not notice the redness that formed across JD’s face.  _ She desperately pretended not to notice the heat forming her cheeks. _ Her eyes flickered to the floor. JD’s flickered back to his book.

“Which book are you on now?” JD’s eyes met with Heather’s. A smug smirk was plastered across her face, an eyebrow cocked. JD rolled his eyes before lifting the book off of his lap, allowing Heather to see the cover. 

Heather was suddenly  _ insanely _ glad she chose to stand by the counter. Her grip on it increased as her legs nearly gave out. In his hands, slightly covered by his bedsheets, was the same copy of Moby Dick she had once given him. The one she marked up for English and dumped onto him as a thanks for Heather’s scrunchie.  _ The one he had planned to plant on her corpse as a suicide note. _

Everything around Heather was sickeningly hot. Despite the room’s lack of light, the shitty light bar above JD’s bed glared against Heather’s eyes. Sweat was starting to run down her neck. Her inhales rapidly became faster as her lungs struggled to fill with oxygen. Her hearing faded out and was replaced with the sound of her racing heart. The edges of the room seemed to blacken despite the blaring light. 

Something tugged at her left arm. It started gentle, like a little kid tugging on her arm. Then it gradually got more and more violent. Every tug came with some sort of noise. Each tug increased the noise, but not the clarity of what the noise was. It wasn’t until something smacked Heather across the face was she able to hear what the noise was.

“Heather!” The back of Heather’s hand embedded itself harshly against Heather’s cheek, throwing her head in the direction of the smack. Heather's hand was raised and ready to go for a second time until a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled it down.

“Heather, stop it.” Veronica aggressively threw her hand down. Heather’s tongue moved around in her mouth, running over the side of her cheek. The pain that came as a response actually helped to ground Heather slightly. The room had returned to a somewhat light state and she wasn’t rapidly gasping for air.    
A pair of hands wrapped themselves tightly around Heather’s shoulders. Heather’s gaze weakly followed the direction of the arms. Heather stared at Heather, her eyes scanning her face, luminous blue eyes that stood out despite the room being quite dark. From the corner of Heather’s eyes she could see Veronica’s form. Standing, ready to take action at the sight of any movement. From just around Heather’s face, she could see JD. His face was a horrid contortion of several different emotions. He seemed horrified, guilty, and fearful all at one. His hands laid, motionless on top of an open book.

Heather blinked.

_ She knew exactly what that fucking book was. _

Before anyone could blink, Heather had shrugged herself out of Heather’s grapple and left the room, slamming the door shut so fast that it gave the room a slight tremble. Heather turned on her heel, looking hopelessly at JD, before turning towards Veronica. Veronica merely stood there, frozen in place. Shaking her head rapidly, Heather stormed out after Heather. The door creaked shut on its own.

Veronica collapsed into the chair with a defeated sigh. “Well, that was a fucking catatrophy.” Running a hand over her face, she took notice of the book under JD’s hands. “What book is that?”

JD’s expression didn’t waver or change in the slightest. Guilt still painted abhorrently across his face, he wrapped his hands around the book and lifted it up for Veronica to read.

. . .

Heather didn’t take too long to find. One direction led out, the other direction led into a bathroom.  _ And, considering Heather’s track record… _

Heather rapidly knocked on the door. Heather groaned from the other side before slowly opening the door. Her face lit up lightly upon seeing that it was Heather. Heather quickly shoved herself into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. 

“Hey.” She gave a small wave.

“Hey.” Heather replied back, somewhat disconnected.

“Are you alright?”

“I just had a fucking panic attack, Heather.”

“So,” Heather dragged out the O. “No?”

Heather shook her head before collapsing to the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest. “I don’t even remember how that book got back into my possession.” She shook her head rapidly. “I really don’t.”

Heather fell to her knees beside Heather and grabbed one of her hands, looping her fingers easily through Heather’s. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

“No, Heather,” Heather yanked her hand away, pushing herself away from Heather and closer to the wall. “It’s not okay, I have never been fully okay with,” Heather frantically motioned with her hands, desperately trying to find the words to convey her emotions. “ _ Everything _ that Veronica has been doing.” Heather brought herself to her feet. “The lying, the manipulation, the whole pretending that this entire situation is okay,” Heather pressed down on a finger for every point she made. “And JD,” Heather massaged her face. “Is an entirely different story.”

“I thought you had a positive experience last time you visited him.”

“I had positive experiences with Heather, I still don’t forgive her for the things she’s done to me.”

“Well,” Heather shrugged. “Heather is also dead. Not much to forgive.”

Heather stared blankly at Heather. “You can have positive experiences with people and still not forgive them for the things they’ve done, Heather.” 

Heather jumped to her feet. “I know, Heather, and I’m sorry.” Heather reached out for Heather’s hand only to have it slapped down and away from her.

“No,” Heather jabbed a finger into Heather’s chest. “You don’t know, you and Veronica both don’t know,  _ and that’s the problem. _ ” 

Heather took a moment to process Heather’s words. The words tasted like sugar-coated venom. Heather had a lot of issues,  _ Heather knew that _ . Heather had been there for every single one of those issues. She listened to Heather. She  _ understood _ Heather. To hear that Heather was facing an issue that she  _ apparently _ didn’t understand was a little jarring. 

The sound of the bathroom door slamming shut, however, was far more jarring.

. . .

The door creaked open nice and slow. It creaked louder as it was shut even slower. Veronica hopped to her feet, throwing Heather’s old copy of Moby Dick into her seat. 

“How’s Heather?”

Heather winced visibly at the question. “She’s,” Heather paused for a moment, locking eyes with JD. Would it really be wise to tell Veronica, openly, that Heather was not okay with everything she had been doing? Was it really a wise choice to reveal that Heather deeply distrusted JD? Heather sighed before turning her gaze back to Veronica. “She needs some time to adjust. That’s,” Heather pursued her lips. “All.”

“Huh, well,” Veronica moved back towards her chair, picking up the book. She turned towards JD. “I’ll see you soon.” She turned back to Heather. “You ready?”

“Uh yeah, where are we going?”

“To burn this book.”

Veronica opened the door and watched Heather walk out. She looked back at JD with an uneasy smile. “Do you want the ashes or anything?”

JD scoffed at her before promptly flipping her off. Veronica raised her hands in a symbol of peace before turning around and slamming the door shut.

Under different circumstances, such as Heather not freaking out over him nearly being her murderer, or his body not being blown to shit by a failed suicide attempt, he might’ve said yes.  _ He might’ve even gone with. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but seriously THANK YOU FOR ASKING BFJERNHVEFJVJVE THAT WAS THE NICEST THING ANYONE HAS LIKE EVER ASKED ME I SWEAR HVUFIDJVIUERJGIOEJIRIOVGRENIO


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im uploading this on a phone because my school chromebook banned Ao3 lmao

The smoke wisped away into the air, bringing along with it tiny, orange embers that softly lit up Veronica’s face. Veronica wanted to burn the book  _ immediately _ . The second she got out of the hospital type of immediately. Heather insisted that she at least get to an area with a campfire. And so they sat, Veronica crouched down, eyeing the fire with anxious intent, and Heather sitting cross-legged next to her, scared to move or even break the silence with a comment.

The fire finally gave out with a soft blow of air. Veronica fell back onto her behind. Heather gazed at her. 

“So, what now?”

Veronica cocked her head, looking towards the sky. “We move on.”

Heather offered a smile at Veronica’s words, but unease stirred within her.  _ It wasn’t going to be that way for Heather. _ She brought her knees to her chest.  _ The worst was yet to come. _

. . .

Veronica hadn’t seen Heather in a week. Whether Heather was ditching school or avoiding her was something that Veronica pondered frequently. Occasionally, she’d see flashes of green from the corner of her eyes, but the second she whipped her head in the direction, it was gone. She wasn’t in the lunchroom, she wasn’t moping outside, and if she used the halls to get to her classes, she was doing a damn good job at avoiding Veronica.

_ Hell, _ even Heather hadn’t seen Heather in a while, leading Veronica to suspect that Heather was lying about what happened at the hospital. 

It was a terribly frustrating situation. One second everything was good, and the next it all fell to shit. 

Veronica palmed her forehead, her arms hunched over her legs, staring desperately at the ground. Heather sat next to her, her legs tightly together with her hands softly laying on top. An anxious look across her face.

“What actually happened at the hospital?” Veronica peered at Heather through her arms. Heather looked taken aback. Instantly, her hands started messing with each other, interlocking and intertwining her fingers. 

“I’d rather not say.”

Veronica snorted, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

Heather gave her a lopsided grin.

. . .

Veronica’s visits with JD often blended together. Most of the time, they would sit in comfortable silence. Momentarily comfortable. They both were touchy and careful to avoid subjects that would result in the other’s mental state being affected. This left comforting silence that they both knew would eventually lead to painful conversations.

One of these conversations, however, could not be avoided. 

They were talking about something mundane and bland, when the topic veered off onto what they wanted to do in the next five years. Veronica told JD that she was just focusing on surviving. He told her the same. It was this point when Veronica pensively bit her lip and asked the question he had been dreading since day 1.

“You don’t have a place to go after you’re discharged, do you?”

JD pursued his lips and shrugged. “Guess I’ll figure it out.”

She shook her head, crossing her legs together tightly. “How could he do this to you?”

The words JD hated to hear. They played like a screeching sound across JD’s mind. The blatant fact that his father  _ left him behind _ . It hurt even more to think that he left him behind in the same way he left his mother behind. Tears welled. Soon they poured. Veronica was instantly by his side, holding his hand gently. Stroking it softly. 

“I promise I’ll find something out, I promise.”

JD sniffled, wiping his tears. He didn’t have a response. He wanted to tell her to not even bother, but the words couldn’t come to fruition. He just said nothing as she let go of his hand, stood up, and briskly walked away. 

. . .

Relocating JD was going to be a challenge, sure, Veronica knew it. He had no place to live, no income, and half the town either wanted him dead or thought he was dead. Veronica briefly entertained the thought of  _ somehow _ sneaking JD into her house but quickly put a cap on the thought before it could blossom any further. How would he even get in the house? How would he be able to eat? Where would he sleep? Where would he shower? How would he get to school? What if Veronica’s parents caught him? There were  _ far _ too many variables to make it a sturdy plan.

The thought remained in her head for several days. Plaguing her in class, at home, and even in her sleep. She refused to see him again until she had it all sorted out. She didn’t want to return to him with nothing as a plan, she didn’t want to return and make him think that he was beyond helping.

Granted, he just might’ve.

Veronica let out a massive groan as she buried her head in her sheets. This shouldn’t have even  _ been _ a problem. Veronica’s fist tightened. If she had the opportunity to choke JD’s father, she would take it without hesitation.

She flipped onto her back, staring at the ceiling. 

“Who the fuck just leaves their kid like that?”

And then it hit her.

A place that JD could stay at? And wouldn’t be easily caught? And could get to school without being caught? 

A person whose parents were never around? A person who was the only person living in her gigantic mansion? 

Veronica shot up in her bed instantly, tumbling over her sheets and struggling to reach her nightstand. She managed to grasp the edge of it and tried pulling herself forward, resulting in her dumping off her bed and landing on the floor with a loud thud.

“Veronica?” Her mother immediately yelled. 

Veronica straightened herself out before yelling back an excuse. She reached for the phone and pulled it into her lap, hastily dialing Heather’s number.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times it rang before a soft click was heard and Heather’s cheery voice came through.

“Hello?”

“Heather, hey.”

“Veronica! What’s going on?”

Veronica inhaled sharply. “Could you help me out with something?”

“Anything. What is it?”

“Something,” Veronica paused. “ _ Big. _ ”

Heather was silent for a moment. “What is it?”

“Alright,” Veronica took a moment to form the words in her mind. “Would you mind it if after JD is discharged that he were to, oh, I don’t know, stay with you?”

Silence. Veronica started absentmindedly twirling the phone cord around her finger. She started looping it another her entire hand. She did this three times before she got a reply.

“Veronica.” Heather’s voice was pleading, as if she was begging for Veronica to find some other option.

“I’ve tried everything I could, I can’t have him in my house, what if he gets caught? And Heather has completely gone missing-”

“Veronica.” Her voice had a weaker pleading to it, as if she didn’t know how nor want to fight Veronica on this.

“And your father is always at work and your mother,” Veronica froze on that statement. Heather’s father was always off on some business trip, sometimes traveling to different countries. He would return home from his trips for a maximum of a few days before embarking on another trip. And Heather’s mother. Well, Heather hadn’t seen her mother in several months. She was finally sent away to rehab and had been there ever since. Veronica winced.  _ It would be wise to ditch that point and make a fresh one.  _

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have some company?”

Heather let out a small sigh and something that sounded like a choked giggle. “Veronica, I don’t really know.”

“It’ll only be a few months, I just,” Veronica rubbed her temple. “I don’t know what else to do with him. I don’t want to leave him on the streets.”

“Where are his parents?”

“I-I,” Veronica stuttered, taken largely aback. She was definitely unsure as to how to go about this. Would JD be comfortable with other people knowing about his relationship with his parents?  _ With what happened to his mother? _ “I don’t think I should share that?”

“They’re not there, are they?”

Veronica sighed. Why did Heather have to be so fucking good at observing things? “No, they’re not.”

Heather sighed. “Fine, but I’m not too excited about it.”

Veronica let out a sigh of relief. “Oh my God, thank you, Heather.”

“You’re welcome, Veronica.”

The line went dead with a satisfying click. For once in Veronica’s life, she happily put the receiver back onto the phone. She crashed into her bed sheets, taking a moment to simply breathe.

. . . 

It took eight rings for Heather to pick up.

“Hello?” Heather’s voice was muted, quiet, and tired.

“Heather?”

And instantly the phone line went dead with a click.

Heather called Heather eight more times before Heather finally picked up again.

“You are a persistent motherfucker, you know that, right?” Heather snarled. Heather halfway expected the line to go dead once again, but to her pleasant surprise, it didn’t.

“Heather, I’m so sorry about what happened at the hospital, you were right, I didn’t understand what you were going through and I genuinely want to apologize.”

“And?”

“And?” Heather stuttered for a second. “I’ve been worried about you! I haven’t seen you at school at all, where have you been?”

Heather let out a silent chuckle. “Heather never taught you about the back halls?”

Heather shook her head before realizing that Heather couldn’t see her. “No?”

“There are halls in Westerburg that go to unused classrooms and link back to the rest of the school. Hardly anybody ever goes down them. Very discrete.”

“That’s...interesting, I guess?”

“Thanks. She made me use them whenever she thought I looked awful. That’s why I was always on time to my classes Junior year.”

Heather had pondered that. With how congested the halls at Westerburg got, Heather was always seemingly on time. “I’m sorry she forced you to go through that.”

“It’s...whatever. You called me eight times when I clearly didn’t want to talk to you, so what do you want?”

“Oh, uhm, I,” Heather briefly paused, measuring carefully the words on her tongue. One wrong step and the conversation would be ended with a cruel click. “I really,” Heather sighed. “Who am I kidding? I now understand what you mean with you being upset with Veronica, that’s all I wanted to say.”

Heather made something that sounded like a muffled laugh. “What did she do?”

Heather let out a forced laugh. “Let’s just say I’m going to have a new guest for a while.”

Heather let out a scoff. “She did not.”

“She didn’t what?”

“Oh my God, she roped you into this too?”

Heather moved her head from side to side before realizing that Heather couldn’t see her. “Not really. I did agree to it, I’m just not the biggest fan of it?”

“Heather.”

“Yes?”

“She’s making Jason Dean,” Heather emphasized his name. “Stay at your house.”   
“It’s not like that, Heather, he had nowhere else to go, okay?”

“And he couldn’t stay with Veronica?”

“Because that would be a good place to live?”

Heather went silent for a moment before softly muttering her defeat. “Good point.”

“It’s not that I wanted to say no, I just wished there was a different way it could be handled.”

Heather went silent for a bit. “I understand.”

“Thanks, Heather.”

And the silence blanketed itself over the both of them, wrapping around them tightly, only breaking every so often for either one to take a breath. 

“I suppose I can stop using the back halls.”

A smile found its way onto Heather’s face. “That would be nice. I’ve missed you, you know.”

A blush burned its way from Heather’s neck to her face as Heather replied in a soft voice, “Me too.”

. . .

Opened swiftly, slammed shut. JD’s tiredness outweighed his excitement. It had been a long while since he had last seen Veronica, but on the other hand his last few nights of rest weren’t exactly peaceful. Keeping his eyes shut, he waved a limp hand in her general direction. Immediately after he dropped his hand, something started scraping against the floor. It stopped next to his right side. He peeked open his eyes to see Veronica plopping herself in the chair, with a smile she was desperately trying to suppress. 

“I’ve got it all figured out.” He raised an eyebrow and twisted his body to face her. She nodded, confirming that he had heard correctly. “Now all we do is what.”

“Do you want a ‘definite’ date?” JD air quoted definite. Veronica rolled her eyes and nodded.

JD’s body was actually healing much faster than expected. Much,  _ much _ faster. They had originally anticipated him needing  _ several _ months of physical therapy to get his body back into working condition. Considering his rocky start it wasn’t unreasonable to say they were justified in thinking that. It was terribly difficult to relearn the basics of human function. 

Every object he lifted felt like a chore. Every step he took was a nightmare. Every time he lifted his arm felt like Hell.

And yet, it only fueled him further.

Lifting things became less painful and more enjoyable. The ability to rotate his wrist without screaming pain was a luxury. The basic function of walking had never seemed like more of a privilege. 

He had only a few more things to relearn before they could consider him a ‘functional’ human being.

“A week, though, that’s subject to change.”

Veronica’s eyes widened at the date. That soon? It felt like only yesterday had she walked into this room and seen him struggle to pick up a cup. And now here he was, ready to reenter society and the Hell that was high school. She cocked her head. “How so?”

“I have to be reevaluated before I can leave, touch over a few bases, make sure I won’t kill anyone the second I leave,” He nodded his head. “Y’know, the basics.”

Veronica shared a soft snort at his comment. “Well, try not to fail it.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. His gaze connected with her. They both seemingly shared soft smiles. She squeezed his hand before briskly standing up, moving her chair back to its original position, and leaving.

_ It wasn’t too much longer now. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this chapter excites me. It’s the time skip that was d e s p e r a t e l y needed and it now brings us to what I like to call Act 2 of Forgiven!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you notice that this was posted on the day that the original Forgiven aired? Life's crazy man.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter was about 7k words and is already more consistent that the second half of the first draft of Forgiven.
> 
> I really like the style I have chosen for this story and I definitely feel a lot more happy with how this turned out. I'm excited to be rewriting Forgiven and I hope that you'll like this version as well.
> 
> If you were confused about the orders of events btw, it goes like this:
> 
> *Veronica attempts suicide  
*Veronica is hospitalized/confesses to the murders  
*JD awakens  
*JD is taken in for interrogation
> 
> Looking back on it, I could've set it up better, but I'd also have to weed through 7k words to refit and organize and I am not doing that right now. Possibly later, but not now.
> 
> Thank you all for reading Forgiven. Goodnight!


End file.
